


The Silver Key

by dogsatthedisco



Category: Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Alternate Universe - Orchestra, Alternate Universe - Phantom of the Opera Fusion, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Dancer Park Jimin (BTS), Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Gen, Ghost Min Yoongi | Suga, Min Yoongi | Suga Is a Little Shit, Min Yoongi | Suga-centric, Orchestra, Park Jimin (BTS) is a Sweetheart, Platonic Relationships, Revenge, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:48:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 50,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25407160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogsatthedisco/pseuds/dogsatthedisco
Summary: Eva Romanov is a budding violinist that is growing in skill and popularity every day. However, no one knows that she is being mentored by the former legendary violinist, Yoongi Min, who is now a ghost. Yoongi is cruel, cocky, and seems to have unfinished business left from when he was alive, but as a starving artist, Eva doesn't care where she's getting free instruction. She's improving drastically and finally fulfilling her dream of having a successful music career, but is dealing with a ghost and all of the shenanigans, sorcery, and secrets that come with one worth that?
Relationships: Min Yoongi | Suga & Original Female Character(s), Park Jimin (BTS)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 7





	1. elegy

**THE WARM AND DELICATE** smell of coffee wafted through the air. The smell was so flavorful, it was almost tangible. Even the cars that flew by could not disperse the fragrance. The source of the fragrance was a cup of coffee, held by one half of a pair of lovers.

"I don't think I'll ever understand why you do this every morning," Jimin Park, the holder of the cup, commented as he walked through the busy streets of Alexandria, Virginia.

Jimin walked closely with his girlfriend, Eva Romanov. They were walking to the performance center where they both worked; Jimin as a dance teacher, and Eva in an orchestra. The orchestra only met a few times a month, but Eva liked to practice in the center's convenient practice rooms. Plus, she got to walk with her boyfriend of four years.

"Do what?" Eva asked, a mischievous smile growing across her face.

"Take this frozen walk without something to warm you up," Jimin responded, shaking his coffee cup to demonstrate. "One day you'll just freeze on the sidewalk while walking."

Eva grinned, stirring her mango smoothie. "Coffee is disgusting, dear," she said mockingly, sticking the tip of her tongue out of her mouth.

"But what about sugar, Eva?" Jimin questioned in a prolonged voice. "You can put as many spoonfuls of it as you want in coffee to make it taste good." Momentarily, the duo stopped as a bicyclist rushed in front of them.

"But what about diabetes, Jimin?" Eva answered in the same sustained voice.

Jimin was silent for a moment, thinking thoughtfully with a small smirk on his lips. "Then why don't you drink tea?" Jimin asked with a challenging smile, now talking faster in accordance with his quickly increasing adrenaline. He raised his eyebrows. "Isn't it a warm drink?"

"I already have enough tea," Eva finished off, gesturing her hands upward. She pointed her finger at her brain. "Right here. And it's easily spillable."

While Eva grinned blatantly, Jimin also smiled but shook his head in embarrassment. "If I didn't know you were a violinist, Eva," he said, determined to not let the conversation end, "I would guess you were an actor because this behavior doesn't quite fit the stereotype of a dainty and shy orchestra girl."

"Haven't you figured out I'm quite the opposite of that by now?" 

Jimin shrugged. "I'm learning." 

He slung his dance bag over his shoulder. Then, with the precision of a professional basketball player, the dancer shot his (now empty) coffee cup into a nearby trashcan. Jimin used his newly acquired free hand to hold Eva's.

Eva laughed and squeezed Jimin's hand. She took a sip of her smoothie, smiling as she looked up at the cloudy blue sky and watched a few birds fly up above.

"So," Eva said softly, eyeing Jimin's bag on his shoulder, "what have you got planned for your kiddos today?"It was always bizarre to see the ways he'd try to get them to learn.

Jimin's eyes scrunched together into half-moon crescents. The corners of his mouth rose up in a devilish grin. He side eyed Eva with a glint in his eyes, making her stare at him in regret.

"I'm glad you asked," Jimin said gleefully, his voice heightening in pitch slightly. Jimin stopped for a moment outside of a small clothing store and threw his bag forward on his shoulder so he could unzip it. Eva watched curiously as Jimin rummaged in the bag for a moment before pulling out a teeny blue ball of stringed plastic - a pom-pom.

"Jimin, how are the kids going to benefit from using pom-poms?" Eva asked incredulously, trying to hold back a small laugh, and then had to hold her laughs back even more when Jimin tilted his bag toward her to show there were at least twenty more. Interestingly enough, this wasn't even the top candidate for strangest activity Jimin had brought for his kids. And that was probably why they, and Eva, all adored him so much.

"We're almost done with our ballet unit," Jimin said absentmindedly while he twirled a tuff of one of the pom-poms. He softly grinned, then put the pom-pom back with the others and zipped up his bag. "And some of the smaller kids, like the four-year-olds, were getting restless and tired of doing moves that seemed more like stretching than dancing. So I thought today would be a fun day to do some pom. Kinda like a free day." Jimin chuckled.

Eva looked at him, confused. "What's pom?"

"It's a type of dance the older girls do. Normally the little ones don't touch it yet, but I figured it might be fun to try and give them a few basics." Jimin shrugged and smiled. "I'm not expecting much though. They'll probably just wave them around wildly."

"Because you couldn't come up with a normal lesson plan because you were too lazy?" Eva questioned with cheek, eyeing a few strands of pom-pom that were sticking loosely out of Jimin's zippered bag. That was definitely going to be a problem for him later when he would open his bag again.

"I never said the free day was just for the kids," Jimin admitted, turning slightly pink. "C'mon, let's get moving again before we're late," he said in a rushed voice. Jimin retook her hand and they started walking again.

"It amuses me that you found a place that sells this many pom-poms," Eva mused once they had gotten back to their walking pace, earning a small smile on Jimin's lips. "I wish I could come and watch you guys, but I have a seriously tough Prokofiev piece that I've been working on and I need to put all my attention to that. And my teacher will be there-"

"Your teacher is _always_ there," Jimin said sharply, interrupting her. "Because you're there whenever he is, and then all day I never see you." It wasn't a rude butt in. It was simply a reminder, but the annoyance was definitely there. "You can't even stop for a half an hour?" Jimin gave a saddened look to his girlfriend and knitted his eyebrows together.

"No, my teacher likes me to stay as long as I can with him," Eva said, sighing. "Ever since I became concert mistress, the lead violinist in the orchestra, I've had to practice a lot more because now I perform whole solos and not just accompaniment." She gave him a meek smile. "Sorry, Jimin. But I'll try my best to come over and see you."

"Which I hope will be soon?" Jimin asked, biting his lip. Eva hesitated for a moment and then nodded. "Of course." Unconsciously, Eva gripped harder onto her smoothie.

The duo continued through the busy roads. As they walked, the shops stopped being extremely close together and soon spread out as individual buildings. The stores also became more well known and there weren't too many small businesses. This was only an effect of the performing arts center - The Jessop Center, being a very popular place for shows of all kinds to be performed.

The center, where they both worked, was very versatile, from hosting small concerts of amateur dancers to the most Hollywood-like theater performances. But the most well-known person to ever grace the stage of The Jessop Center wasn't a famous dancer or actor, though worldwide artists sometimes made appearances.

He was a violinist, so melodramatic and thrilling that people would call him a pop star rather than a classical composer. Unlike other classic violinists like Hilary Hahn or Joshua Bell, this violinist was always unafraid to test the limits of what he and his violin could do. But unlike the contemporary Lindsey Stirling, this violinist was not an advocate for dressing up in neon clothing and doing gymnastics while playing the violin.

There was an aura that this violinist, Yoongi Min, had been born with, a talent that was able to hypnotize crowds and change the minds of the most hypocritical teenagers. And if Yoongi had lived past his mid-twenties, he most likely would have had his own genre of music or started a new era of classical music that no composer had dared to ever dip their toe in.

Without Yoongi, The Jessop Center would have never gotten all the recognition it received had Yoongi not entered its doors and had not been raised in Alexandria. Because of him, The Jessop Center was seen as the birthplace of brilliance. After all, the birthplace of such a famous man was legendary.

In the front of the center was a beautiful lake that was known for the rainbow koi fish that shimmered as visitors came by to see performances.

Jimin stopped in front of the lake and looked down upon its glimmering surface before turning back up to look at Eva. "See you after work?" He asked lightly. When Eva nodded, Jimin's face blossomed. Just seeing Eva nodding to his question, a small gesture of reassurance confirming he would see her later in the day, was somehow so comforting. It secured the idea that he would always have the virtuoso in his life.

Jimin bent his head down slightly and gave Eva a kiss on the cheek. He started walking to his class, looking over his shoulder and waving at Eva.

And Eva waved back - she always did.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

 **STEPS LEFT** **EVA'S** **FEET** as the young woman made her way down a flight of stairs. On her back, her violin case jumped around just like a backpack and hit her butt everytime she descended.

Before the violinist had reached the stairs, Eva had walked through the lush and green scenery of The Jessop Center which always seemed to be getting even more beautiful every day. The mahogany building gleamed every morning because of the sunlight. Even though the glare made her shield her eyes, she knew once she got inside she could admire the inside of the center without a sun smiling a bit too brightly on her.

The inside was also mahogany, but instead of steel bars and a large black shingled roof, the inside was adorned with hundreds of thousands of small gold pieces from decorations. A grand golden chandelier hung in the middle of the large room where visitors and Eva first would walk in. When Eva was little, it always reminded her of a spider potentially waiting for some prey to walk under it so it could fall and encase its golden jaws on it. Someone must have noticed the spider's motives because it was under construction for fear it would fall.

After waving at the workers who were fixing the golden bug, Eva made her way past the front desk and promptly threw away her smoothie in the nearby trashcan, glad she no longer had to carry it. 

"Hey, Maria, how are you?" Eva asked the receptionist casually, tilting her head and giving a smile to her. Her eyes scanned over Maria's desk and she noticed that her desk was covered with papers, a lot more than Maria usually had. Eva raised her eyebrows. "Are all those papers for the chandelier?"

Maria pursed her lips at Eva and gave a sympathetic look. "Thank you, I'm alright," she said, though she did not look alright at all. Eva gave a meek smile, noticing Maria's lapse. "You don't seem totally like yourself. Is it all those papers?" Eva asked again.

Maria nodded her head and tucked a curl of black hair behind her ear. "But these papers aren't for the chandelier," she said. "The chandelier is already taken care of on a writing level. These papers are for another problem." Maria rubbed her forehead and stared at Eva with doe eyes. "The pipes are acting up again."

"Again?" Eva asked, suddenly very aware of how cold her hands had gotten. "I thought they were just fixed," she said nervously.

Maria shook her head. "So did I and so did the plumbers last month. This is the third time the pipes have been acting weird, and every time the workers have come to check on them, they've reported nothing is wrong." Maria sighed. "They probably think we are crazy. But I am not the only one who has heard the pipes screeching with horrible noises." Maria paused. "It's like they're screaming. But they always stop when people come to check on them."

"I'm sure they'll be fixed for sure this time," Eva tried to say with confidence. It seemed to have worked because Maria nodded. "Thank you, dear," she said sweetly. Maria turned to her computer and pushed a few things out of the way of the keyboard, giving Eva a smile that took away all of the worries on her face. "You best be going to practice, okay? There's no need for you to be concerned about any of this." 

Eva gripped her violin case strap on her shoulder, knowing she should be very concerned. "Yeah, you're right," Eva said with an almost faltering smile. "Have a nice day, Maria!" And with a wave, Eva made her way to the stairs that would lead her to the basement practice rooms, or as the musicians liked to call them, The Catacombs, for the gloomy, old, and sewer-like vibe it gave.

Large, black instrument lockers were resting on every wall at the bottom of the stairwell, reminding her vaguely of high school. As she walked through the twisty hallways of lockers and practice rooms that soon came after, Eva's heart beat in unison with her footsteps. She knew her private teacher would be in their practice room already; he was never late.

Even though her private teacher was brilliant, Eva's heart always got a workout as she walked closer and closer to him. He was quite strict, but Eva wouldn't have it any other way, especially with how far he had taken her in her career. Without him giving her a little push, there would be no point in a teacher.

Eva opened the heavy practice room door, the dull light flickering before coming fully on. The grand and old piano sat in the corner of the room with a large mirror stood next to it, reflecting another Eva right back at her. The walls were a pale beige, and the room was about the size of a family bathroom. There were many things Eva liked in the room, many calming things to offset the clear elephant in the room.

Near the corner of the room, there sat a being as translucent as a stained glass window in thin air, staring down at Eva with his thick brows arched slightly.

Eva was not fazed as she looked at the man floating in mid-air. She took her violin case off her back and greeted him by waving as if he was a good friend and not a ghost.

"Hello, Yoongi."


	2. maestro

**"YOU'RE LATE,** Eva," Yoongi purred, leaning forward and looking down at Eva with small, dark eyes. The ghost hung in mid-air for a moment and then floated downward as if he was on an elevator until he appeared to be sitting on the seat by the piano.

"And someone's been a terrible plumber," Eva said with the same tone back, referring to the pipe issue Maria had told her about. Eva took her violin case off of her shoulders and smoothed her hair. "Yoongi," she said, turning fully to face the ghost who seemed bemused, "you can't just _do_ things like that. And you said you'd stop." She pursed her lips, turning back to her violin case to open it up. "You aren't just some poltergeist," she continued, quieter. "I thought you were better than that."

"And who says I can't act like one?" The voice of Yoongi Min rang out, bouncing about the practice room, giving the constant illusion that he was everywhere. "To whom do I give a damn?" She could hear him slap his arm on his knees as he said that, like Eva had just told a funny joke.

" _I_ give a damn," Eva said, sighing. She pulled her violin out of her case and wiped it a bit. It seemed like every time Eva arrived at the practice room, Yoongi always had some kind of trouble going on, though whether Eva found out about it first or Yoongi told her about it first was transferable.

Yoongi's expression seemed unwilling to budge, so Eva persisted. "If you're always fooling around, you'll have less time to practice and to get better."

Silence took away a few seconds, and then Yoongi crescendoed into a loud and dry cackle. "Me? Getting better?" He chortled, covering his stomach, his black hair flying around. "Oh Eva, you must be delusional." He straightened, his face becoming still and rigid, but he was smiling. "So delusional," he said again, his voice now airy. "As if I could get better. Eva, I'm _the best_."

Eva had now taken out her violin, bow, and music during Yoongi's declaration, and was ready for her lesson to begin. "You _are_ good," she agreed, but that only caused Yoongi to roll his eyes as if he expected Eva to fall to the floor and praise him instead of brushing him off.

"I'm-" he started, but Eva finished him. "-the best? In your mind, as much as you please. Can we start now?" She tapped her toe in a rhythm, staring at the left side of his face, where his hair was much longer and covered almost all of his skin.

"As much as you please," Yoongi mocked in Eva's voice, waving his hands around with a wrinkled nose, making her smile. Eva put her violin upon her shoulder, then placed the bow on the string delicately as if it was a baby. She looked up at Yoongi for a cue to begin.

Yoongi shifted in his seat without losing eye contact with her. Slowly, the ghost brought his hand up to his face and brushed his dark hair away. By doing so, he revealed an awful mess of brown and black splotches, and awkward dips and chunks of skin like a piece of meat that had been overcooked, the place where the left side of his face should have been. He placed what he could of his hair behind the pathetic stump of his left ear, then curled his fingers - only three fingers, he did not have two more - around his ear as if it was still with him. His darkish skin around his eyes did not help make him look less creepy. Giving one last look at Eva, he closed his eyes, ready to listen.

Eva shut her eyes, took a deep breath, and moved her bow across the string to begin. The first note was quiet, and yet it seemed to cover every inch of the practice room like it had an unending vibration. The second and third notes followed suit, and Eva shifted her hand to play higher and continue the song. Her hand always shifted up and down like it was confused as to where it should go, playing notes that reached the upper and lower extremities. 

By the time Eva was done, she felt that the performance she had just given was her best yet. Eva wiped her hands on her pants after putting her violin down, smiling to herself - how did she get so sweaty while playing? She looked up at Yoongi with earnest in her eyes. "Well?" She asked him. "How did I do?"

Yoongi had now placed his leg over his other and was bopping it up and down to the same tempo as Eva's piece. His eyebrows raised ever so slightly, and he refused to make eye contact with his student, instead staring at the floor. The sweat on Eva's hands increased.

Then Yoongi looked up at Eva with a dull expression. "What was that?" He asked calmly.

Eva stiffened. "Prokofiev, I thou-"

"Yes, yes, I know _that_ ," Yoongi said, waving his hand dismissively, his mouth a thin line. "What I'm asking, Eva, is not the piece, what I'm asking, is, was that really your version of the song? Was that your best?" He paused for a moment. "Because I didn't think so." He floated up, looking down at her like she was a small child. Eva stayed as still as possible.

"There's so much talent in you," Yoongi breathed, looking around the room and tapping his chin thoughtfully, "and yet, you still lack a certain quality that simply would make you so much better." He looked at her with a fixed gaze. "Your tone was impeccable, as always," he said in a bored voice, "and I could feel the emotion. But did the emotions make me _feel_?" He huffed. "Of course not. And now I suppose I need to somehow make you learn how to do that."

Yoongi curled his three fingers into a fist and released them. A violin as transparent as him appeared, developing so only the top part of the violin was visible, and then the rest. Yoongi took the neck of the violin and cradled it in his hands. "What do you think of when you listen to your piece?" He asked, drumming his fingers on the neck of the violin. "Simple question. I don't want some cheesy, sob-worthy answer."

Eva thought for a moment, but not much came to mind. In most cases, the pieces Eva played didn't make a rough impact. Most pieces she learned were in a flourish rather than songs that changed her or made her feel something. Only a few had that special title, and unfortunately, this Prokofiev piece was not one of them. But some words did come to mind.

"It kind of sounds like Harry Potter," Eva finally answered. "You know, it sounds melancholic and bittersweet, but it's still pretty."

"Who is Harry Potter?" Yoongi questioned, furrowing his brows.

"Um," Eva said intelligently, "just some guy from a book. He was orphaned when he was a baby but he grew up to be a wizard and defeated the evil man in his world."

"Sounds awful," Yoongi muttered, clearly not in the mood for storytime. "But back to the point." He folded what he could of his fingers together. "I want you to think of something melancholic, something bittersweet that's happened in your life, Eva." He threw his violin away carelessly, making it fly forward into the wall.

He then bent down to look at Eva directly. "And once you have something, imagine it in your playing and _show_ me the emotions, do not _tell_ me. I do not care for your emotions unless they affect me." He gestured toward the sheet music on the stand. "Build the notes into sentences and make something more than just using A, B, or G. Show me a story and make more letters than with what you have."

Eva shuddered like a cold front had passed through the practice room. There was a way - and Eva wasn't sure how - but Yoongi always knew how to say his teachings in the most mystical ways. "You know, a bittersweet thing that happened to me when I was in 8th grade," Eva started, digging back to her middle school years. Yoongi cocked his head and folded his arms over one another once she started, interested to hear this.

"I was the lead violinist. _Finally_. I had just beaten these two violinists that were always ahead of me, and they were super cocky about being better than me. But at that time, I was the best." Eva puffed up her chest, smiling fondly of the moment. "We had regional orchestra, though. And one of them auditioned better than me." Yoongi whistled in a low tone.

"Naturally, she got a higher seat than I did. In fact, she auditioned the best out of the region, and even got a solo." She huffed. "I never got a solo in school."

"And that was the only time she beat me once I was the first chair! But she took my solo, so it really put a damper on everything."

"When I was in school," Yoongi started, looking at his fingers on his right hand, "I was always the first chair."

"And when was that, during the Renaissance?"

Yoongi raised his eyebrows slightly. "A bit later than that," he stated, rolling his eyes. "But deviating back to the point. When you play this song again, I want you to imagine that one of those violinists is next to you and is telling you that they are better than you." He looked at her with his dark eyes, making her feel like he was burning through her. "And I want you to prove them wrong," he whispered.

Soon, the sound of a violin graced the practice room once again, but this sound was different than the first time it was heard. Each note was beautiful, and yet each one wailed and wobbled like the note was in pain. Every note had a different personality, but they all knew how to do one thing - and that was grasp the listener by the shoulders and shake their emotions into them.

"Yes," Yoongi murmured when the violin was finished singing. His eyes shifted to Eva, and he gave a rare smile. "You've done it."

"I have?" Eva questioned. She placed her violin down on the piano carefully and looked back at Yoongi. "But I really don't feel like I played it any different than before."

"That's because you didn't," Yoongi blatantly pointed out, placing a finger on his lip. "But your violin did. You may be playing the violin, Eva, but it's the violin that's caroling." He seemed smug, tapping his other hand on his thigh. "Right then. Next piece."

"I don't have another one yet," Eva pointed out. "In all of the other pieces, I am in the orchestra." "Then scales, Eva," Yoongi countered. "Scales, scales, scales. The true test of a musician's skill." He turned toward her. "E major. Three octaves. Play." Each word punctured his lips with the force of a bullet. His eyes glimmered with amusement as Eva scurried to get into position and put her violin up.

Hastily, Eva started on E and went up the scale, going higher and higher until she could have reached out and touched her nose if she wanted to. Then, she descended, once again starting on E and then ending on the lowest E.

"Arpeggio," Yoongi fired as soon as she was done, kicking one leg over the other. Eva played the arpeggio, beginning on E, similarly to the scale. She hopped around on different notes, reaching the top notes and then fell down back to the start. "Faster," Yoongi ordered, and Eva did both the scale and the arpeggio.

This continued on, and Eva had done at least eight major and minor keys. "Yoongi," Eva called while wringing out her hands, "after some etudes, can I go on a lunch break?" She tried to say this casually because she knew what was coming.

Yoongi looked at her like she had just told him she wanted to quit violin. "No?" He said incredulously. 

Eva's shoulders slumped. This was always the unending routine that their lessons revolved around. Eva had to explain to Yoongi why she had to stop and eat. "It's been an hour and a half," Eva pointed out.

"I practice nine hours on a slow day," Yoongi countered, giving her a look of exasperation. "You're not leaving."

"I'm human, Yoongi, and I'm hungry," Eva shot back, pursing her lips. If Eva could just leave the practice room and Yoongi, she would, but avoiding Yoongi would be impossible. He would simply follow her out the door and float around her like an annoying fly. "I'll be back in forty-five minutes."

"Twenty-five," Yoongi retaliated, now sneering at her.

"Thirty-five," Eva said and folded her arms across her chest. "That's final."

Yoongi looked like he wanted to punch her - but that was preposterous, he would fly straight through. With his lip twitching, Yoongi muttered an okay and darted out of the room by going through the wall. Where to, she wasn't sure. Eva was just glad she could have a small break and start on a few etudes after she rested up.

And after a few seconds, Eva darted out of the room as well. Only the silent violin remained, and the music of the practice room was muted.

Though sound was gone, sight was not. In Eva's cream music bag, an old and tattered journal with character seemed to glimmer green like it wanted to lure in an unsuspecting victim. But it was all an illusion because the journal stopped being so extraordinary and turned quickly back to ordinary when its owner scampered back into the room.

Yoongi swayed around for a moment, and then looked at the brown journal in the bag, his eyes brewing with longing. Then as quickly as he came, Yoongi whizzed away, and the journal could only remain the same.


	3. fermata

**THE BACK DOOR** was never used by ordinary show-goers or even some of the faculty at The Jessop Center. But it was always there, and it was a nice escape if one didn't want to sift through large crowds coming through the main doors.

So Eva made her way out of the back door feeling at peace with herself. She was glad she impressed Yoongi enough to move on from the Prokofiev piece since they had been working on it for two months and Eva was beginning to get tired of it. That, of course, would not be the last time she would play it. The concert for Eva's feature and a couple of other pieces was in a week. And since it was so soon, Eva's whole orchestra would be at a rehearsal tomorrow, three days from today, and the day before the concert.

Eva exited through the back door and was hit with a burst of sunlight. She squinted her eyes and made her way through a grassy patch before walking on a sidewalk. "I think there's a sandwich store somewhere here," Eva mumbled out loud as she got closer to a strip mall that was growing in the distance.

Every day, Eva could tolerate Yoongi and his "no-break, no-food, no-stopping" policy, but she could never fully overcome the bubbling acrimony that came when he tried to enforce it countless times. Humans had to eat and sleep, and sometimes Eva wondered if Yoongi forgot what it was like to be alive and how necessary those things were. Her spirit plummeted simply thinking about the squabble.

Her mood lifted when she saw that she was correct in finding a sandwich shop - the flag that held the store's name whipped around by the slight breeze. Eva continued onward over patches of grass and a parking lot before opening the door to the store. With Yoongi exiting and lettuce and tomato entering her mind, Eva ordered a sandwich, a drink, and a bag of chips then sat down at a round table and waited for her meal.

As Eva sat, she smiled and chuckled to herself when she began to reminisce about her family. Eva's grandmother, who was born in Russia, once told her that sandwiches were not food and if she was hungry, soup was the option to take, and apparently, all Russians had this ideology. And here Eva was, in a sandwich shop. She chuckled to herself as her sandwich was brought down in front of her. She must be an awful Russian.

Eva put her hands around the leafy food and felt her mouth water. She hadn't had much breakfast beside the smoothie with Jimin earlier, and it had been a few hours since then. As she was about to take a bite, the door sprang open and hit the wall with such incredible force the bell on top of the door jingled louder and harder than Santa's entire sleigh. Eva almost dropped her sandwich in surprise.

"Oh my gosh!" A woman's voice shouted from behind Eva. The voice was so loud, even the workers popped out from behind the counters and turned their heads from cleaning the tables to see what all the noise was.

"Eva!" Shouted the voice again. "Oh my gosh, Eva!" A flourish of pink twirled into Eva's vision, and Eva realized there was only one pink fanatic with that much bombastic energy.

Meg Miguel plopped on the other side of Eva, her hair bouncing on her neck like she had joyfully bounded around The Jessop Center. Meg's bangs were awry, but instead of fixing them, she shook her head like a bug had landed on her nose to make them even more ruffled.

"Oh, Eva!" Said the broken record again, its eyes shining. Eva could feel a smile blossoming on her lips and she wanted to stand up and hug her best friend.

"Oh Eva," Meg said with the touch of a feather, "I haven't seen you in so long! How are you?"

Eva was smiling all over her face. "I'm doing great, Meg. I've missed you."

Meg Miguel - a living ball of energy that could not be calmed or contained, and Eva's best friend. If there was one thing Meg was good at doing, it was bringing spirit wherever she was. Eva could feel the side-effects she gave already.

Meg stood up, eyeing Eva's sandwich before looking back at her best friend. "Hug?"

"Absolutely," Eva said.

The two girls hugged, then sat down and caught up on each other's lives. Meg, apparently, had started on a new etude book and was elated about it. "It's brand new," she said while munching on a sandwich she bought, "so I can write all over it and bend it all up to prove it's mine."

Despite her dorkiness and obsessive nature on her viola, Meg soon turned the conversation to one of her favorite topics that actually was not music related: movies.

"And I was seriously crying when he died!" Meg exclaimed and waved her hands around like she was a crazed conductor. "And in the first five minutes, no less. I was this, _this_ close, Eva," she held her two fingers close together, "from leaving the theater right then and there."

"You actually left when we saw Boys Of Tenebrosity," Eva mused, thinking back to a year ago. "You just stood up, and, _poof_ , gone." She waved her fingers and wiggled her eyebrows. "No more Meggie."

"In my defense-" Meg started, her eyebrows raising. "In your defense?" Eva choked, suddenly blessed with a particular memory. "You accidentally flipped some dude's popcorn on himself when you were walking through legs." She enjoyed watching Meg squirm and ate another bite of sandwich while kicking back at her show she created out of her best friend. Popcorn would have been delightful for this.

"But the ending was so emotional!" Meg cried. "After all they had been through, they were stripped of their powers and were demoted to just being human. Do you know angry I would be if I was an all-powerful person and then that happened?" Meg shook her head and pursed her lips. "Very."

If Meg had actually watched the last fifteen minutes of the film, she would have realized it wasn't as tear-jerking as she thought, but Eva wasn't one to ruin the fun this was making. She simply shrugged and took a sip of her soda. "Whatever you say. Anyways, what time is it?" Eva knew that she didn't have all the time in the world to talk to Meg, because Yoongi would be expecting her soon. Looking around, the shop didn't have a clock in sight.

"It's 2:45," Meg announced, reading the time off of her phone. "Why? Do you have to leave already? I just got here."

"I've got somewhere to be in fifteen minutes," she said casually, staring at her sandwich-less plate. She wished she could spend more time with Meg - they hadn't seen each other in months - but Eva had to leave, even though she wasn't totally sure when they'd be able to meet up again like this. The once loud and lightning-like conversation burned out, and Eva began to bounce her leg. While trying not to look at Meg, a symphony she liked occupied her mind and Eva focused on it like she would die if she didn't.

"Oh," Meg hummed and took another sip of her drink. In the corner of her eye, Eva could see her vivacious friend puckering her lips and staring straight into Eva like she had laser eyes.

"So how's your relationship?" Meg asked, placing her knuckle under her chin, gung-ho to not allow their conversation to be buried in a graveyard.

Yoongi's dark hair and dead eyes flashed in Eva's mind for a moment before realizing that Meg was talking about sweet and adorable Jimin.

"Oh, it's going so well!" Eva exclaimed, feeling pieces of joy bubbling up inside. "Just a few nights ago we had a night in together." Eva grinned as Meg smiled sweetly back at her. "You know, watching movies, playing board games, and jamming out to Shostakovich."

"You two are so cute," Meg sang. "I wish I had a someone like that."

"Didn't you have a crush on that cellist for a while?" Eva asked curiously, wanting to not just talk all about herself. Meg was often so sporadic with who she liked, it was often hard to tell where she would bounce to next, and when. It vaguely reminded Eva of jumping on mushrooms in Mario Kart.

Meg paused and then gasped dramatically. Briefly, Eva could see the lights flash in her eyes. "Oh my gosh, I have such a story about him! Oh, wait," she frowned. Buckets of liveliness steamed off of her. "You gotta go."

"Hey, maybe we can call tonight?" Eva suggested quickly. She got her bag and stood up. "I feel so bad that we never talk or see each other."

Meg stood up as well and brushed off her clothes. "That actually really sounds amazing," she said, giving a tiny smile. She picked up her trash while whistling, before turning back to Eva right before she reached the trash can. "Well, don't wait for me, you don't want to be late!"

Eva noticed she was waiting at the doorway and smiled at her own action. "Alright, _mom_ ," she said and stuck her tongue out. "And I won't be. Catch you later." Eva strolled out of the sandwich shop, feeling content like she had just given a good portion of money to a charity. It was like talking to Meg was on a checklist, and Eva now had the satisfaction of putting a dark checkmark by it.

The feeling seemed to carry as Eva made her way back to The Jessop Center. Smiling, Eva strolled down the sidewalk, watching a small group of people flood through some dance studios.

Rushed - that's exactly how relationships felt with Eva. It carried a profound weight in her heart and sometimes, lying in bed at night, Eva would wonder if the fame she was rapidly receiving was even worth the cost of diverting from Jimin, Meg, and the rest of her friends and family.

But Yoongi would come floating in, sometimes literally, and serve as another hand in carrying and throwing away the guilt that would gradually become too much. He'd tell her that loved ones would always be in her life, while music had to keep paying tuition to stay. That alone would keep her on the train of playing the violin, and she wasn't planning on stopping anytime soon.

Eva froze, her eyes scanning the dance buildings. Meg had said she had at least ten minutes, right? It took almost that to reach The Jessop Center. Eva's hands were magically blessed with gallons of sweat.

Jimin could be seen through the window, scrolling through his phone. He seemed focused on it, very unaware of his girlfriend fifty feet away. Eva's heart rate increased exponentially - not because of happiness seeing him - but because as far as Jimin knew, Eva was cooped up in the practice rooms. If he saw her on a break (that she tried so hard to get) and at the _same time as him,_ she couldn't imagine how heartbroken he would be. Jimin always wanted her to come and watch his classes, and seeing her walking freely would raise a red flag.

Eva took off in an awkward power walk, her legs waddling like she was a penguin. Her bag jabbed into her every time she moved, but that was at the least of her concerns. She was running from so many different emotions that could express themselves if Eva was seen.

The sidewalk that Eva walked on would pass extremely close to Jimin's window. If she wanted, she could hit it and get Jimin's attention. But unfortunately, that was everything that Eva did not want to do. All that separated them was a piece of glass that was only a few inches thick.

Eva stopped herself right before she reached the dance building to get composed. She didn't have a jacket with a hood, but if she walked normally with her head turned away from Jimin, she was sure that she could walk by him as long as whatever cat video he watched kept his eyes from wandering.

The violinist took off, suddenly granted the awareness of her own breathing and the sound of her feet hitting the pavement. Eva stared at the sky, never more interested in clouds in her entire life. Just a bit more and she would be able to dodge all the misery that would have came with being seen.

She was sure she was in the home free now. The dance center was behind her and Eva took a huge sigh of relief. She'd still have to make this up, though. Even though Jimin had no idea, happenings like this tended to hang above Eva like a shadow. Perhaps she could treat him someplace and remind herself that Jimin was her boyfriend, not just a chauffeur or a walking companion.

"Eva!" Jimin's voice rang out and immediately the emotions attacked and invaded once more. A swell of fear rose up inside like a wave. _I'm dead,_ Eva thought repeatedly, wanting to bolt off as far away from Jimin. But she couldn't, that would cause even more of a problem. Cautiously, Eva stopped walking and turned around to see him.

"Oh! Jimin! What a surprise to see you here."

Jimin was already walking toward her, a great smile blossoming on his face. Eva didn't even think he was mad, or he even realized what just went on - his arms encased her and filled her up fully with warmth. Eva felt deceiving as she hugged him back.

"I'm so glad to see you," Jimin said and pulled back from her, smoothing her hair and looking at her with his loveable and sparkling eyes. Eva held his wrists and looked up at him, unsure why she was having anxiety over this encounter. "Me too, Jimin," she said. She could feel her legs shaking like they were being vibrated. "Are you on break? I didn't realize you had a break right now."

Jimin nodded, his eyes catching the sunlight, making his hair seem extra silky and smooth. If Eva didn't feel so distressed, she'd be drooling. "The younger kids are done for the day, and I have an hour in between classes before the tweens."

"That's fantastic," Eva said distractedly, looking repeatedly over at The Jessop Center back door. Jimin noticed this, and his eyebrows raised. "Do you need to go?" He asked, letting go of her. "I don't want to hold you up."

"Actually, yeah, I do," Eva said, nodding, taking a few steps back from her boyfriend. "I really gotta jet. I'll see you later."

"Ah," Jimin said and nodded. He gave a small smile and shrugged his shoulders. "Well, have fun." For a moment, Eva could see sadness hidden in his eyes.

But there was, yet, still no time for apologizing. "Thank you!" Eva cried, then took off in the opposite direction.

Eva felt that wasn't as bad as it could have gone. She shouldn't have even worried in the first place, why would Jimin ever be mad? He couldn't be mad if he didn't know. Maybe he just started his break and it wouldn't have worked out anyways. That thought made her feel better, but it couldn't cover up one large elephant in her mind.

Eva knew those were all just excuses - excuses to cover up the one irreversible idea. Eva was avoiding her boyfriend.


	4. calore

**THE CATACOMBS** , the practice rooms, and the hallways that connected the rooms were almost always bustling with noise. But today, a new and different sound grabbed the hallways, a sound that didn't reveal itself very often. No one cared inside their own bubbled practice room, but those who walked the hallways were awestruck by this hypnotic sound.

The noise was a violin. It wasn't clear, but the noise it was making was very exact. It sounded like wind running through a valley, or a distant cry from someone miles away. Unclear, but very exact, like someone had stuck their head underwater when hearing the music.

This was the violin of Yoongi Min.

It was the first sound Eva heard when she walked back into The Jessop Center. Whenever he played, the music he produced was muted, quiet, and naturally, ghostly. He could have been playing the happiest piece on Earth and it would still sound like he was playing a funeral march. No matter how long he played, his music would always be as eerie as him.

"Yoongi," Eva whispered as she poked her head into the practice room. The music stopped and Yoongi appeared, sitting on top of the piano with his violin on his shoulder and a leg kicked over another. He stared down at her, with those big and black eyes that made her feel like she could be swallowed whole with them.

"Eva," Yoongi jeered and took his violin off of his shoulder. "You actually arrived on time."

"Thanks for noticing," Eva said back and smoothed her hands over the case of her violin. "Watches and clocks are really good at keeping me on time."

Yoongi remained on the piano, still as a statue. He audibly coughed and then folded his arms over his chest and pursed his lips. "What?" Eva asked, slightly exasperated, looking at Yoongi. "What is it?"

The ghost was checking his fingernails, and he glazed over Eva like he was shopping for clothes and she was a shirt he was considering. Something was definitely off. "Oh?" He said casually. "I thought you knew."

"Clearly not." Eva picked up her violin and held it under her arm. "Why don't you enlighten me, teacher?"

This was the answer he set her up for, as always. With a bit of glee, Yoongi stretched his body out across the piano, yawning for extra effect. He bent his knee and rested his head on his hand, the one with three fingers, and flicked his black hair back. He vaguely reminded her of a stray cat, slinking around with a questionable smile and sleeping wherever.

"Enlighten I shall," Yoongi said, back to inspecting his fingernails on his hand with a complete set of fingers. " _My_ teacher used to say," he said as he picked at a nail, "that being early was on time, being on time was late, and late was fired." He looked up at Eva was a bored expression. "In this instance, you're late."

Something inside Eva, like a fifty-pound weight, dropped into her stomach. "Okay, but I technically was a little early," Eva argued.

"Were you?" Yoongi asked, raising an eyebrow. "Is your violin out? Are you ready to play?"

Eva jabbed a finger at the violin under her arm and raised her eyebrows. "Yes?"

But Yoongi dismissed it, waving his hand and shaking his head. "No, you're wrong," he said blatantly.

"Don't you see," Yoongi drawled, "when I say you need to come early, I mean you need to come minutes before the time I say. And right when your lesson starts is the exact moment when your bow hits that string and is making music. But, obviously," he said nonchalantly, "you didn't know that. You came a tad early, but now it's minutes beyond when we should have started and you haven't made a single note on that damn violin. Minutes, Eva, that's the difference between a great performance and a spectacular one."

A breath escaped Eva, one that was both mixed with annoyance and guilt.

"Well, maybe if you had given me more time to eat lunch, I wouldn't be in this situation," Eva challenged. "And you could just keep me later instead of using such a tight schedule."

"Or maybe you could have brought your lunch here so I can make sure you're not fooling around," Yoongi countered, mocking her tone. He suddenly looked pleasantly surprised at himself for a moment, then continued in a more grandiose tone.

"Actually, that's what you'll be doing tomorrow," Yoongi drawled, smirking a bit. He waved his pale and lambent fingers around as if he was about to grab something. "You'll eat here tomorrow so time isn't wasted."

"But Yoongi," Eva protested, feeling like a small child. "I'd much rather be somewhere else, you can't-"

"I am, I will, I've done it," Yoongi intercepted, staring down at her. "And that's that. Now play." He clapped his hands and motioned toward her violin. "What are you waiting for? Do you want me to make it a week?"

Dumbfounded wasn't a strong enough word to describe Eva as she placed her violin on her shoulder and began to play. She could feel her muscles twitching, and she wasn't certain if it was because of over-playing or just annoyance. Then again, she always played this long, every day. Over-playing was the norm.

She played for at least four more hours before Yoongi set her free from his clutches, with the instructions to go home, sleep, and most importantly, practice more. "Practice is important without the teacher," Yoongi had told her as she was packing up. "You should practice at least ten hours more today without me." Eva forgot to let him know there wasn't even ten hours left in the day.

It took a half hour to walk back home to her apartment. It was a quaint little thing, a maroon building with flowers adorning the edges. Of course, Eva and her roommate weren't the only ones in the building, there were at least thirty other girls in their own cubicles.

Her roommate, Adaline, was not home, Eva found as she entered. Adaline was a pianist who practiced frequently in the apartment, and there was no problem with that, Eva practiced in the apartment too. But there definitely were problems. Eva didn't like her roommate that much, in general. Eva could recall countless time where Adaline would breathe fire over Eva not putting a plate in the dishwasher or leaving her shoes not in the spot she wanted them to be at. It just wasn't right for someone so young to be so nit-picky. Only mothers had that job.

Pulling out a can of soup from a cabinet in the kitchen, Eva hummed a small tune while preparing her dinner. She decided that she had to video call Jimin at some point during the night because she had been so terrible when they met for a few minutes earlier in the day. She also knew that she said she'd call Meg too, but she was almost certain that her friend had already forgotten. Because of what had happened, Jimin had first priority.

She never meant to be secretive, but telling her boyfriend that her teacher was the ghost of a crazy-good violinist wasn't just a regular conversation to have, and she didn't ever want to have it with him. She couldn't tell him that it was nearly impossible to have a lunch break when her teacher hardly understood the concept of eating. It ate a whole inside her heart, but it was imperative that she kept it to herself, for the sake of herself and her playing.

Call it unhealthy, but before Eva met Yoongi, she seriously considered dropping violin for good and returning to college to find something else to pursue. She wasn't someone special in the orchestra, she was in the middle of the pack and hopelessly disappointed with how mediocre her life was turning out to be. But with Yoongi, it was like a switch had been turned on. Eva had shot up in ranking over a course of six months, and within a year, she had become the best of all the violins, and all because of that ghost. Yoongi had reignited her passion for violin, and the option to drop the instrument was out. Throwing away Yoongi would throw away every accomplishment she had ever done with violin and would put her back at square one.

The microwave announced that the soup was done. Eagerly, Eva took it out and took her sweet time slurping it up while scrolling through social media on her phone, a luxury she didn't usually get. She tried imagining what it would be like to teach Yoongi what social media was, but she wasn't even sure if he knew what a cell phone was. Perhaps that was why it would be so funny.

Within a few hours time, Eva was rolling into nighttime, changing into her pajamas and sliding into bed. Like Yoongi had asked, or ordered, she had practiced, but only for two hours. What he didn't know wouldn't kill him, especially if he was already dead.

Pulling out her phone, she answered a few texts Meg had sent before going to the video call button on Jimin's contact. Her thumb hovered over it for a minute, debating if she should call or not. She was nervous to see Jimin, nervous if he was upset that she totally blew him off. To waste time, she went to her camera app and fixed her hair so if she totally messed up she'd look nice while doing it, then pressed the button.

For a few seconds, her phone stayed silent and Eva wondered if he was even home. But suddenly, the face of Jimin appeared, along with the small eyes and warming smile that Eva loved so much. "Eva!" Jimin exclaimed. He was wrapped up in a fuzzy and bright yellow blanket as effulgent as sunshine that made her think Jimin was the inside of an omelet. A very delicious and adorable one. His fluffy and blonde hair was very in favor of that point.

"Jimin," Eva sang, readjusting her position in her bed so her head could lay back and see Jimin clearly. It was so great to see him live. "I've missed you," she said genuinely.

"I've missed you too," Jimin repeated, even though they both knew very well that they walked together that morning and ran into each other during breaks. Jimin snuggled into his blanket and smiled humorously very close to the camera. If they were talking in real life, Eva could have reached forward and kissed him. "So, how are you, Minnie?" Eva asked him, laying her head on her hand.

"Not much," Jimin said, yawning and giving a baby smile to her. "The usual, I guess?" He sat for a moment, silent like he was dreaming, staring at something up on his ceiling. Then, his eyes became the size of apples. "Oh!" He cried. "Eva, wait, very important thing!"

"What is it?" Eva asked, raising her eyebrows in mild surprise. Jimin's smile was so gigantic, she wondered what could make him so delighted.

"RM-hyung came out with new music!" He cried happily. Jimin was so excited that he dropped his phone on his bed, and for a moment tangles of blankets could be seen in peripheral vision. His head poked into the camera's vision, still grinning like an idiot. "Eva, his album is _so_ good! I was so amazed. He was so fast, and fantastic, and, and-" Jimin cried, and then shouted something in Korean. "I love him almost as much as you, Eva!"

"That's awesome, Jimin!" Eva smiled and basked in his happiness. This was the best type of Jimin - one that was lovely and effervescent. "I'll send you the link immediately, or please look it up, Eva!" Jimin pleaded. "And you can watch a subtitle video so you can know what he is saying."

"I never said I wasn't going to, silly," Eva said softly, smiling at him as a mother would to her son. "With you being this happy, of course I'll check it out." Ever since Jimin had started liking RM, Eva listened to his songs anyway whenever or not he requested. She couldn't help but add another thing that brought them together. RM really was talented so it was easy to like him, even if he rapped and sang in a language she didn't understand.

Jimin's eyes turned into hearts. "Thank you!" He sang, wrapping his yellow blanket tighter around himself. "You're the best Eva, do you know that?"

Eva smiled. "Thank you, Jimin." Her thoughts drifted back to earlier that day, and her face dropped. She hated to change the topic so quickly. "Also, I'm so sorry I was in such a hurry earlier," Eva admitted. "I didn't want to be late for practice and I felt bad that I just left you in the dust." She felt too embarrassed to look at her phone, so she stared at her lamp next to her bed like her life depended on it.

"Oh, Eva, you're worried about something like that?" Jimin's voice asked incredulously and Eva turned her attention back to him. "I don't mind at all, seriously. We all have those times. We're both working, too. I don't expect you to be at my beck and call every time I'm free. I realize that you're busy too."

"I also felt bad because I had lunch at that sandwich shop by the center, and I could have spent time with you if I had known you were free," Eva admitted. "I was walking back when we met up."

"And I was just starting my break," Jimin said back to her, cocking his head and giving a little smile. "Eva, don't be so worried about this stuff. You're too pretty to be worried."

Eva felt blush creep up on her cheeks. They had been together for four years and yet he still could make her feel like a silly teenage girl. "So you're okay?" She asked. "Okay about it?"

"I didn't realize there was an issue."

Eva smiled, feeling all of the guilt melt away inside her. This moment right here was exactly why Jimin was the most amazing man. He was kind to everyone he met and never held a grudge. He never acted irrationally and almost never caused problems for anyone. Sometimes, Eva wondered how she had ever gotten so much luck to meet him. "You don't know how happy that makes me, Jimin."

"You don't know how happy you make me," Jimin crooned, then giggled like a little kid and covered part of his face with his blanket. Eva could see blush creeping up on the part of his face that was visible. "I'm being too cheesy, aren't I?" He asked, maintaining his shy smile.

"The cheesiest."

For a few minutes, the duo only could share silly faces and smiles, only their soft giggles being heard. It wasn't awkward, they both were extremely used to it and loved doing it to make the other smile too. It showed how strong their bond was and how open they were to each other.

"Okay, Eva," Jimin said softly as Eva blew a dramatic flying kiss to her screen, "I enjoy spending time with you, but I really should go to sleep."

Eva glanced over at the clock and her eyes widened slightly. "Yeah, me too." She smiled, turning to Jimin and breathing in him, his smile, his hair, his eyes, and his adorable yellow blanket one more time. "Goodnight, Jimin." Then, to the best of her ability, she crooned an _I love you_ in Korean and gave a small finger heart. Thanks to Jimin, she knew those special words.

Jimin couldn't be happier. _"I love you,"_ he repeated in Korean, giving an embarrassed giggle before giving a small wave. And just like that, he hung up.

Eva watched the screen fade back to the contact screen. _"I love you,"_ she repeated in Korean again, letting the words play on her tongue. She curled into her blankets and let herself become a burrito, setting her phone aside on her bedside. Talking with Jimin always left a fuzzy feeling inside, a feeling that no other person could ever make. Sometimes, if they were feeling up to it, they could talk the whole night together about their deepest secrets and feelings without judgment. With that phrase, whether in Korean or English, it was a shield that protected and bonded the two of them together to say whatever they wanted to each other.

Jimin and Eva owned nights, but Yoongi was able to reserve days as his own canvas. And for Eva that was okay. As long as she had Jimin at night, Yoongi could paint whatever he wanted on his own canvas and take whatever time he needed from Eva. Whatever he wanted, Yoongi could do. As long as Jimin and Eva had their time in the moonlight, Yoongi could play as he pleased under the sun.

Eva was nearly asleep before she heard the door to their apartment open and close, and lights flickered on. Eva opened her eyes carefully, keeping them open as best as she could under the blazing light. "Adaline?" She croaked.

A tall, confident, and cool woman strode inside the apartment. Long, tight, and black braids flowed down to her mid-back, along with eyes and bold eye makeup that could pierce steel.

Adaline's boots clattered along the floor as she walked close to Eva's bedside. She looked at Eva up and down, gazing at the blankets that were tangled up around her. "You look like you were asleep," she said simply, then went back to their front door and took off her jacket and then her shoes.

 _I was,_ Eva thought to herself as Adaline shuffled around their apartment. Eva could hear textbooks slam on the table and she automatically assumed Adaline had, once again, spent her whole day doing her homework and projects.

There was silence for a few moments, and then the soft tapping of piano keys was heard. Eva couldn't hear what she was playing on the piano because Adaline had headphones in, but she could hear her pressing her fingers down on the piano. Eva sat in bed, feeling awkwardly bare while listening to her hitting piano keys until it stopped and the piano bench was scooted back.

"You know, Eva," Adaline hummed softly, and Eva was a bit surprised that she knew she was listening to her. "You really should hang up your things."

Eva wanted to argue, say something in her favor, but she was too tired to say anything to her meticulous roommate. She rolled over in her bed, letting herself get further knotted into her bedsheets.

Adaline could do and say what she wanted. Eva could also do the same. And right now, it was time to sleep. She'd deal with her the next day.

In the dim and bleak darkness at midnight, Eva fell asleep and did not move for another eight hours.


	5. poco a poco

_fourty years ago_

**MID-** **JANUARY** **,** 1979, eighty-two high school string players knew regional orchestra was going to be a great time. It always was. Expectations were high for the orchestra and it never disappointed. However, the orchestra students were not expecting to find the fifteen-time 1st prize violin concerto winner, rising star of the classical world, and sinfully handsome face of Yoongi Min on the conductor podium.

One of the violists nearly fainted upon seeing him standing, and the first chair cellist trembled as she tuned her instrument, staring at him as if he was keeping her head up by some unknown force. Students from all over Northern Virginia auditioned to be a part of regional orchestra. They were ranked, then re-ranked at the event. The new rankings were based on how much the student practiced the music.

When the new ranks came out, it was no surprise that the first few rows were made of girls itching to be close to Yoongi. They were so motivated by this desire that they, through sheer yearning, had their best audition ever in order to see Yoongi Min's smile more close up.

Anyone that knew anything about classical music knew that Yoongi was not a wannabe. He was more popular than Beethoven and Mozart on Billboard's classical chart and the mere presence of the prodigy at a high school event stirred up enough emotion for the musicians. Many of the students, both female and male, abandoned their instruments on their seats and lined up for Yoongi's autograph or a Polaroid picture with him, and Yoongi graciously accepted every offer and question that was presented to him.

Music teachers watched the students who eagerly flocked around him like birds, laughing and chatting with each other and slightly judging them for their dedication to the artist. The teachers, of course, had gotten their signatures from him before he appeared on the podium. And after all of the shenanigans and the excitement had died down, Yoongi would gaze out into the orchestra filled with young musicians and would smile like he was granted with the wish of his life.

That was the way Yoongi was. Unlike other celebrities, who would use their title for their benefit, Yoongi would use fame as a way to benefit others. Only a week before coming to the regional orchestra he had given a large sum of money to an organization that worked to give children with medical problems a place to get better and be cared for.

As if that wasn't showing his kindness and gratitude enough, on Mondays, Yoongi would go over to the Jessop Center and play concerts, free of charge, for the enjoyment of the community in Alexandria. At first, the little concerts weren't too well known, but by the end of 1977 Yoongi owned Mondays, the public even calling the Mondays when he performed "Min Mondays".

The term became well known and so did his performances. To Yoongi's dismay, his concerts had to get a price tag when people from around the country started flooding in to watch this extraordinary man play his violin, and eventually, Yoongi needed to travel to places further away from his hometown to allow people from around the world to have easier access to his concerts. There simply was not enough Earth to hold the fangirls or the classical music enthusiasts.

A company that made strings for stringed instruments had even come out with a type of string that was named after the violinist himself. On many classical radio stations, there would be commercial breaks with a happy Yoongi playing violin with his own strings. "With a quick response, light on the fingers, and a steel core, you will surely sound like a professional!" He would announce after playing. Needless to say, the strings were very popular.

Even with all of this tangible success and a day of the week to himself, Yoongi remained humble with all of his endeavors and was, as quoted in one of his interviews, "just happy to use my influence to bring appreciation to classical music and make the world a better place."

That era of Yoongi Min lasted ten long, lovely and prosperous years. The net income in Yoongi's name for charities was in the high millions and music programs for children across 18 countries were rebooted. Yoongi had many appearances in TIME magazine as "person of the year", "most influential" and had dozens of articles written about him. If the Korean man born in 1955 had been told about his future self's achievements he never would have believed it. But, what changed in the next few years Yoongi or the public wouldn't have seen either.

A new feeling became slowly known inside Yoongi. The violinist was known for being humble and caring to his fans, but after many years with fame, that changed. It first started with the decrease in photos with fans and signature signings. "He's busier," newspapers would whisper to calm down the more avid fans, but no one other than them seemed to notice Yoongi's change in behavior.

Next came the interviews. This stirred up the media the most; it would have been acceptable and almost normal for him to start rejecting most interviews like many popular artists, but to shun them completely was a whole new ballgame. This caught the attention of people who simply knew his name and stirred up a bit of questioning, but once again, the newspapers biased to Yoongi would continue saying he was busy, Yoongi had something big planned, there was nothing to worry about.

The final nail in the coffin was the slow cancelation of Min Mondays. The suspicion of cancelation had been on the rise for years, but the Monday that Yoongi had announced Min Mondays would only be once a month still broke everyone just the same. Only months later he changed that to twice a year, and on New Year's Eve, he canceled the Mondays completely. "He's just really busy!" A few fans cried out in the auditorium before the last Min Monday show, but even they knew that wasn't the case. Something, some emotion had poisoned Yoongi and not too many people were sure if this was just a phase or if any of this was Yoongi's doing.

It was definitely his doing. Little hints of growing narcissism showed their spots. When Yoongi did perform it was in large stages and around the world, and he dressed like he was a flashy movie star and not a classy classical musician. He'd wave off cameras when they got close to him and didn't bother to shake hands with anyone. He'd run off with his violin to pack it up, a glint of disgust in his eye.

No one could pinpoint where or when this behavior had started, it was always so slow and a progression of events that suddenly were clear at the end. Yoongi, beginning as a promising and rosy individual had turned sour because of the fame that had snuffed the light out in his heart.

Of course, there was one thing that remained the same, one thing that kept Yoongi on the charts to maintain his fame. His practice and dedication to his violin only grew, and he had more time to spend with his small and delicate wooden instrument than ever before. Music critics, when looking him over, could never stop talking about how passionate and serious Yoongi was when playing up on stage. Maybe it was the thrill of being in front of people and showcasing talent, or perhaps the violin was magic and it stole all of Yoongi's good qualities in order for him to only focus on it, but Yoongi reaped what he sowed.

Yoongi's performances after the era of "Good Yoongi" showed nothing short of all the changes that had gone through him. Instead of a crisp black suit, a sparkly red jacket with equally sparkly slacks clung on the violinist's body that was nothing short of ostentatious. His small and sweet smile had gone and was replaced with something that should have been on a villain in a horror movie. The only thing that seemed normal was the small violin that hung in Yoongi's left hand like a small child clinging onto its mother. Neither the violin or the violinist would be satisfied if they parted.

When there was a concert there was almost always a shouting crowd that, if out of context, would have sounded like a rock concert. Yoongi loved that sort of stuff, he loved knowing those screams were all for him. He'd sit backstage on a couch with a glint in his eye with his arms folded like he was some important executive of a business. Some days he would shut his eyes and listen to the shouting people on the other side of the closed curtain, and other days he would not stop talking.

"Wow, these shouts," he'd breathe, letting his voice carry everywhere from the busy stage managers on the ground to the technicians up above adjusting stage lights. "That's absolutely amazing. They're all here for me and my violin."

Generally, he'd be ignored or would get a simple nod and smile, but the long-time workers they knew he was not like this ten years ago. Then, Yoongi would chat animatedly with the technicians to learn more about them and would constantly remind them of how grateful he was for them to be there and to make his show fantastic. Boasting about his accomplishments to people who made significantly less money than him was always annoying regardless of who said it, but people still couldn't wrap their heads around the idea that Yoongi Min, one of the formerly kindest celebrities to live, was now doing just that.

There was a ritual that this new era of Yoongi had before every concert. He'd arrive two hours before he should so he could dedicate that time to practicing anything except the music he was to play on stage. He had a small superstition to his music and felt it was best to not play the concert repertoire the day of the concert until the actual concert for reasons that no sneaky interview ever managed to get out of him. He'd run through scales, arpeggios, and etudes until every blood cell in his body was resting in his left hand and the tips of his fingers were shiny and rough. Yoongi believed that to be a literal mark of a good musician so his fingers had to always look like such.

After spending precious time with his violin, Yoongi would wander to the dressing rooms where he would allow ladies to poke and prod him to allow his suit to fit him just right. He was notorious for complaining and being sour while needles dug around the clothing but did much better when he got to sit and relax while the makeup team came by to make his face not look like a ghost on stage. It would be during that time Yoongi would shut his eyes and think about the music, the score running through his mind because he had memorized it weeks before. He'd hum it to jog his memory, imagining the places where his fingers would strike down on the violin.

The final stage before the public was allowed in was a small sound check, where Yoongi wasted no time in letting his hauntingly beautiful melody sweep across the entire auditorium. Many could say Yoongi was a changed man but the music he made with his violin was the same. It was still as entrancing as it was back when Yoongi would give compliments to strangers instead of expecting them from others.

A half an hour was given for the show-goers to grab a glass of wine and get themselves situated before the lights dimmed and the show began. Yoongi's favorite moment was upon him. His mere entrance onto the stage made his entire chest swell with immense pride. Spotlights would appear on him and reflect the angles on his face and make the sparkles on his jacket blind the first five rows of audience members.

They were all there for him. He'd wait for the applause to die down before closing his eyes and placing his violin on his shoulder. He would do it so slowly that many times he could hear audible gasps, the anticipation of the awesome Yoongi Min too much for them. Those gasps would be fuel for him, a small chuckle would escape his lips, and then he would suddenly lift his bow into the air like it was a sword and clap down on that first note, vibrating his hand and instantly silencing the crowd.

It would be six more years of extravagant concerts, daring outfits, and snarky words before Yoongi would be silenced himself for the first time, a devastating injury and a marred face that held Yoongi down under the music radar for quite some time before blowing back up again on charts and playlists.

Though his death was much earlier than many people expected, there was a small secret held in the mind of a young violinist that, if revealed, would cause the world to fall off of its axis.

Yoongi Min still roamed as an echo of himself but was infinitely more powerful than he had ever found himself or anyone else in the world to be before.


	6. symphony

**THE IDEA** of haunted stages and strange disappearances could be found in any performing arts building, but unlike other theaters, spooky occurrences happened nearly every week at the Jessop Center.

Of course, it wasn't common knowledge that there was a real ghost dwelling in practice rooms and capering down the stage whenever he wanted like it was his own. Yoongi Min did what he liked, whether it was appearing to children when no one else was around or playing around with the stage equipment, he did it for his own enjoyment. He could care less to what Eva thought of him.

"Yoongi, what in the world?" Eva roared, barging into the practice room. She slung her violin case off her shoulder and tossed it onto the ground. She scanned for Yoongi, but he was not present. Eva bent down and flicked open the clasps to her case rather harshly to unpack her violin so at least she wouldn't be ridiculed for not being ready when he did decide to float in.

Not even a day had passed since the ghost had pulled a new stunt. As she entered The Jessop Center after a calming walk with Jimin, a trio of musicians were floundering by the entrance whispering in a circle. Eva wouldn't have paid much attention, but she couldn't help but be drawn to what she overheard.

"What was that?" One of the trio members exclaimed. His eyes were widened with fear and his lips were tight with anger.

"Quiet down, there are people watching you," another member, a brunette girl, hissed at the boy, a cellist, giving him a glare and briefly looking at Eva. Eva walked away like she was simply strolling like a good patron and was not listening to them. She wandered around for a few moments and stared at the chandelier above her, then walked back to them.

"Honestly, I think we just got so used to hearing Elijah with us that we just heard his part," the last trio member, a blonde girl, said to the other members. The boy shook his head. "No," he said. "I was looking up, and you were playing straight sixteenths. It would have been Elijah's part. But Elijah isn't here. I clearly heard that one high part he has." Based on the two girls' expressions, they had heard it as well. "And it was in _tune_."

"But that doesn't make sense," the blonde inquired. "He's not here."

"Or ever in tune," the brunette muttered.

They may have been confused, but Eva wasn't. She could guess exactly what happened. The group could hear a part from a member that wasn't present. She groaned as she felt a huge weight grow in her stomach. She knew she'd have to fix this.

Eva cleared her head and made sure her violin was ready. When she was certain she was prepared, she hollered at the air. "Yoongi!"

She was vexed at him, not only for the havoc he wrecked on those poor high schoolers, but also that he, Mr. Punctuality himself, was late. She drew breath, about to scream not-very-nice words into nothingness where there should have been a violin teacher when Yoongi finally arrived.

"Hmm?" he asked innocently, cocking his head to the side. "You really shouldn't yell my name like that. Someone could hear and think you were crazy." He floated down to the floor and stood a few inches above Eva, raising two thick eyebrows and folding his arms across his chest. His tired, dark, and dead eyes barreled tunnels through hers. "What is it?" He asked without emotion.

Eva took a step back from Yoongi and folded her arms across her chest, mirroring him, looking at him in disgust. "You freaked out a group of kids," she said, trying to remain calm. "And you know what I'm talking about, so don't say that I don't."

Yoongi's eyebrows raised and his lip curled up. He knew exactly what he did. It was infuriating how apathetic he could be, how careless he was. "Yoongi," Eva said, her emotion matching his lack thereof, "you played a part of the music. You're not a part of a quartet last time I checked. You could have exposed yourself."

Yoongi only waved his hand dismissively, rolling his eyes. "They didn't even sound good." He said like that was supposed to cancel out anything.

"So?" Eva sighed. Eva had known Yoongi over a year and he made it known that he was disinterested in the thoughts of most humans and believed himself to be the only right one. She wasn't going to win in any scenario.

"I didn't do it to scare them," Yoongi said. Eva looked up at him; he was now sitting on the piano with a bored expression. "I wouldn't have been caught, Eva. Even if they had seen me, you really think people would believe some kids saw the extremely dead Yoongi Min playing his violin up on the rafters? _You_ don't get it. Without the second violin part, their piece would have sounded terrible."

The corner of his mouth cocked upward. "It would have sounded preposterous even with their fourth member in attendance. I was only trying to help." He yawned, fanning his mouth, then turned and laid on his back, kicking one leg over another. "I'm the best violinist in the world and they're ungrateful. They should have been honored that they sounded halfway decent."

Eva opened her mouth. "But-" she started to keep arguing but Yoongi but a finger over his lips and shut his eyes. "Quiet," he said. Even though his eyes were closed and he was not looking at Eva directly, Eva's spine tingled like spiders were crawling up it. "We're not here to talk. This is a music lesson, not a gossip party. Now play. Do you remember which one of us is the better player here?" He opened his eyes and turned his head to Eva, giving her the coldest stare that made her freeze in place. Eva had to shut up, and that was the end of that.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

 **IT WAS THE LONGEST** two hours Eva had ever played in her entire career. Even her past 75-year-old conductor with crazy hair and an inclination for never running through pieces could never come close to Yoongi today. By the time he was done pointing out how wrong she was phrasing the passages, her warped tempos, and her ungodly lack of emotion, Yoongi booted her out of the practice room. "Practice!" He hissed like an angry cat before disappearing through the wall. Eva packed up her violin and left the room in a huff.

The joyful meeting with Yoongi would have gone on longer if not for Eva's group rehearsal. She would have two hours of that, followed by lunch (in the practice room with Yoongi, as if she didn't live in there with him enough) and an even longer practice session with the dramatic phantom. She only hoped he wouldn't be as critical and nasty as he was earlier.

Eva walked backstage and got her violin out of her case. In this rehearsal, the atmosphere was totally different. When Eva was with Yoongi, he was the teacher and she had to look up to him. In rehearsal with the rest of the violins, the other stringed instruments, the woodwinds, the brass, and the percussion, those roles were switched. She was the bee's knees. The amount of admiration the orchestra had for her was terrifying - at least, Eva perceived it as admiration. It could easily be jealousy in disguise.

Eva strutted onto the stage like she was making an entrance on the night of the concert, waving and nodding to a few musicians that made eye contact while they were warming up on their instruments. Some were totally focused on playing through their part before the rehearsal while others were talking with their section, the people that played the same instrument as them.

"Eva!" Meg cried, popping up from the viola section, doing neither option. She waved three fingers at her friend, the other two holding the bow in her hand.

"Hello!" Eva said cheerfully and waved back at her. She took her place in the violin section right at the front and put her violin on her lap. The person that sat right next to her, her stand partner, was already practicing. He was focused intently on the music in front of him on the stand. Eva would have said hello to him but she didn't want to interrupt his session.

A man with hair and beard the same color as the sun strode on the stage after Eva. He wore a relaxed red long-sleeved shirt and jeans but the aura he carried with him suggested nothing casual like his clothes. He was tall and towered over Eva and the rest of the orchestra sitting immediately near him. He gave Eva a blinding smile which gave her an explosion of happiness. He smiled towards the orchestra, making eye contact with several members.

Greg Emory was the conductor of the symphony orchestra that rehearsed in The Jessop Center, but he wasn't intimidating, like most conductors that came from prestigious music schools. Greg cracked jokes like they were walnuts and was able to keep the orchestra at ease during parts that didn't quite fit on the first try, and was still able to have a firm hand on his orchestra to make sure they were all playing at their finest.

"Ah, Eva, how are you today?" The deep and soft voice of Greg hummed. He glided to her side, looking out to the rest of the orchestra and giving smiles to those that looked at him. "I'm great," Eva replied, feeling at ease with him.

Greg smiled softly at her then looked away. "Oh!" Greg said softly, turning back to Eva suddenly, and Eva looked up from her music that her eyes had drifted to. "Eva, remind me to talk to you after rehearsal, I have an important and rather exciting bit of news for you!"

Eva's eyes widened. She opened her mouth and wanted to ask him more, but he had already begun to pull out his own possessions out of a bag resting on his shoulder: music scores, a water bottle, and his baton. The time to talk to him would come later.

The small squeaks and shrills of the orchestra died out when the members noticed Greg was standing at the front of the symphony. Instruments were put in a rest position and everyone looked up at him attentively. This was a routine that all professional orchestras knew very well; when the conductor was ready to start, all eyes went to them and any lingering noise would not be tolerated.

"Fantastic, let's go right along then," Greg spoke to the orchestra. As if Greg had cued him in, the lead oboist played an A, and a chorus of As and close-to-As from the woodwinds and brass followed behind it. While the non-stringed instruments tuned, Eva stood up next to Greg and prepared herself to tune when it was the stringed instruments' turn.

Since she was the concertmistress it was her job to stand and tune while the other violins stayed seated. The purpose of it was just for show, to let the audience know that this was the violinist that lead the orchestra. All instruments, not just violins, were supposed to look at her for phrasing, bowings, and movement.

Yoongi had also been where Eva was many times and was notoriously known for being an intense concertmaster when he was alive. Normal lead violinists would walk onto the stage and give a humble how to the crowd, but Yoongi loved having an entire crowd clap for him simply for arriving on the stage. He'd give a low bow and then raise back up, one side of his lip slightly curled.

Eva knew all of this because of the many numerous videos of him on YouTube. Though only the last few performances of his were recorded due to older technology, even regular people could tell Yoongi had something special about him when he played.

The notes from the band instruments died out, and the oboe player played another A. This time, Eva played and tuned her instrument based on how the oboe's A sounded along with the rest of the stringed instruments.

"Very good," Greg said softly when the last bass stopped ringing. He picked up the baton on the stand in front of him and twirled it in his fingers before raising both of his hands up in preparation to conduct. Like puppets, the orchestra lifted all of their instruments in response to Greg, and within seconds, music was flowing out from the stage.

The orchestra had gotten through most of the piece before Greg waved his arms in a notion to tell the orchestra to stop playing. "Clarinets," Greg quipped. "You're playing the notes shorter. Please play them longer." Greg looked down at the large sheets of music on the stand in front of him, a score that showed every part of all instruments. "Oh, vi-"

"Mr. Emory," one of the clarinetists called out, and Eva turned to look. A row of three clarinets sat behind the second violins, and the girl that had spoken was sitting in first chair. The first aspect of her Eva noticed was how fantastic the clarinetist's hair was. Even though it only went to her shoulders, her blonde hair made Eva envious.

Mr. Emory looked away from the violas he was about to address and turned to the clarinets. "Yes?"

"Our notes have staccato markings over the notes," the clarinetist said without wasting any time. "And I listened to a recording, the notes are definitely short. I think your score may be wrong."

Eva's eyebrows raised slightly. So the music that Greg had was mismarked.

Greg had seemed to realize the mistake. "Oh! Excuse me," he fumbled, giving a smile to the clarinetist. "Sorry about that." Greg looked down and turned his attention back to the section that he was originally going to address.

"Now, violas..."

Behind a few array of stands and people, Meg turned to Eva and gave her a look, her eyebrows raised up and lips pursed. Eva stuck out her tongue at her violist friend. She wondered what Greg had to say.

"Elgar's not going to come from the grave and kill you if you cut a slur," Greg said.

Eva had to hold her breath to stop the release of a snort. She imagined that was something Yoongi would do. Not only was Yoongi someone who played music, he also composed it.

Among the first months and even weeks of meeting him, Eva had scoured every inch of YouTube looking for every performance of him or his compositions, curiosity coursing through her. She had listened to him and known about him before they ever met, but actually knowing him and seeing him gave her a new perspective on everything he did.

To her surprise, Yoongi didn't have nearly as many compositions as she thought he did. After exhausting Google with all sorts of Yoongi Min trivia, she learned he had only written one symphony and one violin concerto. The symphony, Eva had listened to hundreds of times and knew it was his very first written musical work. It was bright, powerful, and majestic, deeply contrasting his violin concerto that he had performed only two years before his death, which only ever gave Eva trepidation whenever she heard it. It was dark, eerie, and ghostly, like the violinist knew he was going to die in the near future.

And as if the violin concerto was not unique enough, it was a whole other feat when Yoongi played its premiere performance - with only three fingers on his left hand.

Eva knew all about his legendary hand; it was huge in the violin community because of how big of a handicap it was. About seven years before his death, someone had broken into Yoongi's home while he was cooking dinner for himself. The culprit, whoever they were, shoved Yoongi's face straight down into the pan like his cheek was a piece of meat. While holding him down, the person also managed to hold Yoongi's fingers in the fire under the pan, scorching them. Even today, the culprit had never been caught.

This resulted in a major setback in Yoongi's career as a violinist. Not only was the left side of his face absolutely scarred and his left ear completely gone, but he had lost two fingers on his left hand that were absolutely crucial for playing his instrument. Some people thought it was a horrible anti-fan that had done this to him; Yoongi was getting quite popular, however, the orchestra community had something else to say.

"It's important to note that the lower left side of his face was being seared on the pan," an online article noted. "For non-musicians, this may not seem like much, but violinists and violists should know well that the lower left part of the face, the jaw in particular, is where the instrument is held. I would say it is pure coincidence that the intruder burned him there, however, this intruder also severely damaged his left fingers, a more obvious part of violin playing. This makes me believe that this act was sabotage, like someone really did not want Yoongi picking up his violin ever again."

For a few years, Yoongi disappeared off of music charts and most assumed he had given up on violin. But the impossible was defied; Yoongi made his second debut as a three-fingered violinist only a few years after the impairment that had made him like that. His popularity exploded as much as his ego did.

That small sentence uttered by Greg kept Eva's mind occupied throughout the rehearsal, allowing her to forget that Greg wanted to speak with her. When it was finally time to leave, Eva would have left without any word with Greg if not for him reeling her back in.

"Eva, wait!" Greg called, calling for her attention. Eva turned around, her eyes slightly wide, scanning the large auditorium she was leaving for who was calling her. "Eva!" Greg called, standing on the stage and waving at her to catch her attention.

The realization that Greg had wanted to tell her something hit her and she felt bad for not remembering. "Oh, sorry!" Eva walked quickly to where Greg was, her violin case brushing against her legs. Her heart sped up and she wondered what he had to say.

Almost all of the other instrumentalists had already left, safe for a few stragglers who were quietly chatting with friends. "What is it?" Eva asked him once she arrived at his side.

Greg smiled down at Eva, a bright and clean grin. He rubbed his nose, his fingers brushing on his beard. "Well, Eva, I think you'll be delighted to hear this. I got an email from a certain orchestra a few hours ago asking for you." Eva froze, holding her breath.

"The London Symphony Orchestra wants you to play as a guest soloist!"

Eva nearly choked, her heart suddenly taking off like it had grown wings. She had to cover her mouth to hide her gigantic smile on her face. Greg's eyes shined with happiness. "I absolutely knew you'd love it. You deserve this."

 _London._ Everything about that was incredible. Not only would it be Eva's first international performance, but it would also be her debut as a solo violinist. To say she was happy would be a huge understatement. This had been a distant goal of hers ever since she started getting serious with violin, and now it was lying in the palm of her hand.

And it was all thanks to Yoongi for being her teacher.

"When is it?" Eva asked, almost letting her violin case slip out of her hands in enthusiasm. "It's in about eight months," Greg said. "Eight months to prepare! Speaking of preparing, Eva, perhaps I could find coaches for you to help you with nerves, the music itself, whatever you need."

"That..." Eva trailed off. "Sure. But don't make it your main priority, please. I already have a lot of mentors that keep me on my toes. I'm sure I would be fine with them." A tiny knot appeared in Eva's stomach for the small lie she told. She kept her smile and didn't let it falter, though it was hard to anyway, joy was surging through every part of her. She didn't know who she would call and cry with happiness about first: her parents, Jimin, or Meg.

"Oh, yes, that's very fine." Greg beamed. "I really am proud of you. I'm going to say it again, but you really deserve it." He gave a kooky grin like he was going to hug her, then gestured to Eva's violin case next to her. "I don't want to keep you waiting, I'm sure you have things to do!"

"Thank you, Greg, Mr. Emory, wow-" Eva radiated. If they weren't just business partners, she would have given him the tightest hug for being the deliverer of such great news. She picked up her violin and gave a wave. "Could you forward the email to me? I'd love to have it with me."

Greg nodded and waved. "See you later!"

Eva sighed with happiness. She wondered if she was dreaming, but this was too perfect to be a dream. "I'll see you later."


	7. subito

**THE UNIVERSE SMILED** upon Eva. Even though she was inside, soft and pink cherry blossoms fell and graced her shoulders like it was April instead of October as she walked down the long hallway to her practice room. There was no sun but Eva could still feel warm rays touching her skin like soft puppy paws. She was absolutely radiating the happiness that her future, after years of worrying, would be secure.

The uptight teacher in her mind telling her that music was an awful choice to pursue as a career was gone because she was now above them. For a brief moment, Eva considered leaving the music building and dashing over to the dance hall just to tell Jimin the fabulous, stupendous, and unreal news that she would be performing with one of the most prestigious orchestras in all the world, but she pushed that thought out of her head. She had to tell Yoongi, the one who had made this possible.

Eva rushed in the practice room and met the shocked face of Yoongi. He nearly fell off the piano he was sitting on when Eva arrived. He shrieked and flashed invisible for a moment, then returned to visibility with his eyebrows furrowed and hair slightly disheveled. "Courtesy?" He growled while smoothing his hair out. "I thought you were a little kid."

The words hardly registered to Eva. Catapulting herself forward, Eva threw her arms around Yoongi's ghostly body and squealed.

"Excuse _you_!" Yoongi cried, flying away from Eva. He was visibly red, though whether it was because of embarrassment or anger was questionable. "What has gotten into you?" He managed to choke out, floating down onto one side of the piano, far from Eva.

"I'm going to play with the London Symphony!" Eva exclaimed. She jumped up and down and clapped her hands, trying to find any way to showcase her happiness even more. "Can you believe it? My future is _set_! Orchestras from all over will see me and want me too! Thank you, Yoongi, wow, I've really done it..."

" _We've_ done it," Yoongi corrected softly. "The London Symphony... not bad. That's quite adequate."

As far as Yoongi went, that was one of the better compliments someone would receive. "Mr. Emory told me just a few minutes ago. I don't know exactly what I'll be playing but I think I get to decide since I'm the soloist, right?"

Yoongi nodded. "You'll also receive your fame and fortune." Eva smiled at that. Earning money from a lifelong dream - that was almost too exciting to even imagine. Yoongi's smile curved upward sinisterly. "And you will have earned it because of me."

"Hey, I'll be the one playing the violin," Eva pointed out, raising her eyebrows.

"But I made you play like that," Yoongi countered. "Teachers lay the foundation. Without the right teachers, students lose sight of what they want and achieve the wrong dream."

His voice had a sense of conviction unlike any Eva had ever heard. Eva focused on Yoongi, her palms suddenly clammy and dry, the atmosphere frozen and stiff. Yoongi was looking at the wall as if something was to burst out of it and frighten him, but his eyes showed sadness and regret like he was about to cry.

Eva opened her mouth to respond, but that face disappeared immediately and Yoongi's usual harsh eyes met hers. "So," he said shortly, "you can get your lunch now and eat in here or you can wait until the lesson is over to eat."

As if on cue, Eva's stomach rumbled. "I'd rather go now," Eva murmured, still lost in thought from what had happened a few moments ago. Eva stood up, oddly aware of her own breathing and heart beating. Yoongi motioned to the door as a sign for her to leave, then vanished through the wall to do whatever was appealing to a ghost.

This must have been a dream. Not only was it shockingly easy to get the "okay" from Yoongi for lunch (and she didn't even need to ask for it), it was also unbelievable to see Yoongi squirm and show emotion. Eva wondered if The London Symphony was also a dream; it seemed just as unrealistic as Yoongi threatening to cry.

She wandered around the Jessop Center grounds, wondering what could be something easy to get for lunch, and as she walked out of a local Chinese restaurant with a hot bag of orange chicken and lo mein, she wondered if Yoongi's face and his behavior were related.

Eva was soon back in the practice room, sitting on the piano bench and arranging her meal on her lap. She quickly realized Chinese was not the best option to eat without a table; all of the delicious contents were balanced delicately on her thighs and if she moved an inch it would all topple to the floor in a sticky mess.

Eva started eating, trying not to slurp her noodles or make too much noise, that seemed like something Yoongi would fuss over with ease. It was too quiet; it was uncomfortable, eating in immense silence. Her chewing seemed to be the loudest noise in the room and Eva felt extremely exposed. Yoongi was making no attempt to make the atmosphere any less awkward; he lounged on the wall adjacent from her and rubbed at the two stubs of finger on his left hand and occasionally glanced around the room, making it obvious he was disinterested.

"Do you want some?" Eva fussed at him when he dazed off looking at her food, even though she was almost certain that Yoongi could not eat any.

Yoongi's mouth turned down and his nose twitched. "Do you think I can eat that?" Yoongi asked like he could read her mind. His tone was so firm that Eva threw her head down to hide her embarrassment. She ate a forkful of lo mein and kept herself focused on the food in front of her. It helped to think about the London Symphony, but soon her mind drifted over to Yoongi because the dead silence was beginning to kill her.

"This is why I normally go out to eat," Eva muttered, raising her eyebrows at Yoongi. The comment made Yoongi turn his head abruptly to her. "We _can_ talk," he said. "I didn't think you wanted to." He seemed uncomfortable, but he maintained a confident smile.

He folded his arms into his casual buttoned-down white shirt, causing tiny ripples. It was the same shirt he wore all the time; Eva didn't think he could change it, it wasn't like there was a Ghost Outfitters down the street. and even if there was, Eva was pretty sure he couldn't leave the building. She knew the basics about Yoongi's death, but questions like why he was wearing what he wore were questions that could never be answered by media for how personal they were.

"Okay," Eva said slowly, a small smile creeping up her lips. "First question. Why were you wearing that when you died?" Though as soon as she said it, she became afraid that she had asked something too personal. However, to her great relief, Yoongi's blank face remained blank.

"Wearing this?" Yoongi echoed, playing with the fabric of his tucked in shirt.

"Yes, your shirt," Eva said, looking at him incredulously. "What else?"

"Um-" Yoongi coughed out, sighing momentarily. He tensed, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked upward in deep thought. "How much do you know- no, what do you know about my death?" He asked, his droopy eyes penetrating through Eva. She was once again amazed at how apathetic he was about talking about his death. She thought he would be more protective and sensitive over the event.

"Well," Eva said slowly, preparing her thoughts to showcase her knowledge, "you were in The Jessop Center, and you had a dress rehearsal on stage a few hours before." She looked up at Yoongi for confirmation.

"You're right," Yoongi breathed, kicking his leg back to his side. He walked to another side of the wall so he was adjacent from Eva. "I was going to play Prokofiev's violin concerto in D major."

"What a magical piece," Eva said fondly.

"You could say that," Yoongi murmured. "After the rehearsal, I wanted to play on the stage more. It's a whole different feeling playing in there, so incredible, and I didn't want to miss the feeling of it by going back home and changing into something a bit more comfortable. So I went on stage and played with only the ghost light to keep me company," Yoongi explained.

Eva knew what happened next, everyone knew. "And then you slipped and fell," Eva said before Yoongi could say anything. "That's what the articles say."

Yoongi's eyes became huge, and the light environment of the room disappeared. "I slipped?" He repeated quietly, standing up completely from the wall. He darted over to her, sitting down right next to her. "Slipped?" He said again, louder. "No, no, _no_..."

"What do you mean?" Eva's heart rate sped up like it was running a marathon and she scooted away from him, moving the food on her legs into a more comfortable position. Yoongi shook his head, his hair becoming wild and exposing all of the burns on his face. "This is what everyone thinks?" He asked tersely, his eyes burning into Eva so intensely that she felt her insides cook.

Barely, she nodded.

The piano made an awful noise, a noise like someone had taken the strings inside the instrument and tried cutting them with their fingernails. Then, immediately after, all the keys on the piano slammed down creating a cacophony of hideous noise. Eva dropped all of her food onto the floor.

"I was _pushed_!" Yoongi roared, flickering in and out of visibility. He was visibly shaking, and so was Eva, desperately trying to clean up the chicken that was slowly staining the floor. "I-"

"Me, Yoongi Min, _slipped_?" He bellowed again, and this time, the music stand in the corner of the room fell, the music on it spilling onto the ground like soft snowflakes. "I wasn't even _near_ the edge of the stage, damn!"

Yoongi, still flickering, walked toward the door of the practice room. "This," he said, quivering, showing his hand with three fingers. "And this," he whispered, brushing his hair away from the left side of his face to show his awful marred and burned skin. "If I slipped, then was this an accident too?"

"I- I didn't realize," Eva said to the ghost, her body as stiff as a board. "I'm sorry-"

"That bastard pushed me off the stage, Eva, _pushed_ me!" Yoongi shouted. "Ten feet. That's how high it was, and that's how far my neck traveled before it snapped at the bottom. I _slipped_?" The recently picked up chicken exploded out of the box, showering pieces all around the practice room.

Yoongi floated down to the corner of the room and sat with his legs crossed, shaking like he was being electrocuted. He chuckled, though it sounded like he was being strangled. "It only took me thirty years to see that the media portrayed my death like it was a cute slip-up, an oops, just a tragic accident."

He looked up at Eva. "No lesson today. Just practice at home, whatever, I don't care."

Eva was quick to stand up and grab her violin case before Yoongi did something to it as well. "I'll come back tomorrow?" She squeaked, not daring to upset Yoongi any further. As she walked to the door, she barely registered stepping on obliterated pieces of chicken on the floor.

"Yeah. Sure, I suppose," Yoongi muttered, picking himself up. He gave a final look at Eva, then disappeared through the wall.

Eva shook as her hand grasped the cool door handle to the practice room. She scanned the absolutely wrecked room: the annihilated bits of chicken scattered over the floor on top of the sheets of music, the brownish sauce soaking into the pages. For a moment, she considered calling a janitor then realized this mess was her own problem. She was the only one that knew about Yoongi, so was her duty to trail behind him and clean up what he ruined.

Soon, the room smelled like a science lab. Eva sprayed disinfectant over the whole room before cleaning up the splattered food off of the floor and picking up the soggy sheets of music.

As she worked, Eva felt like there was someone shoveling all emotions from her with an ice cream scooper. Something inside her, perhaps her conscience or a little fairy hiding in her ribs, was telling her she should be sobbing and breaking all contact from Yoongi.

She knew this whole situation was abstract and terrifying as it was; Yoongi, a ghost with a penchant for mischief and multitudes of sentences to brag about himself was not the ideal picture of a teacher. It was days like these that she really questioned why she stayed, and it seemed like a real consideration to just abandon him. Safety was important.

But there was another voice, a more sinister one. The voice purred about success, fame, fortune. It coaxed the fear out of Eva and replaced it with pride, and it told her that she was great. If she stopped now, if she left the masterful Yoongi, her passion would decline and all chances of her dream of being a famous violinist would vanish. She would be good, great even, but that talent would grow no more. The London Symphony was there, right at her fingertips, but was easily the first gig as much as it could be the last.

That crafty voice won her over, as it always did. Greed flooded her systems. She craved success more than anything, something that voice could give to her. And if that voice couldn't get any more comforting, the thought of staying in the arts business with Jimin was the bow on top. Leaving Yoongi would be exactly like leaving Jimin, and leaving the arts for a normal job would signify her as a consistency in a mass of people that never mattered in society.

The cleaning was finally done, and Eva knew for certain she would be coming back to the practice room the next day for Yoongi. Eva laced her fingers around her violin case's handle, slung her bag of music over her shoulder, and gave a final look to the practice room before she left.

Satisfied at her work, Eva patted her bag. Inside, the green journal glimmered. With such a desire for achievement, Yoongi was secure in Eva's mind as the sole teacher for years to come.

She exited the room, taking her green feelings with her.


	8. scherzandissimo

**JOY HAD A CHANCE** to thrive and regrow within the ten-minute walk to the dance building. By the time Eva threw open the shiny, silver doors of the building, happiness had cleaned out every feeling of feverishness in her system. The cleaning job and Yoongi exited her mind while the London Symphony and Jimin entered with glamor.

She hoped Jimin would be on break so she could talk to him immediately, but as she made her way to the studio where Jimin taught, the soft music of ballet drifted into hearing and Eva realized this was even better than Jimin being on break.

Eva peaked through the window of the studio's door to see a crowd of small children dancing in front of a mirror. Some of the kids were too small to be in school yet, while others seemed old enough to be familiar with the alphabet. Jimin stood on the side of the room, doing a couple of their moves with them. Parents sat in a few chairs on the opposite side, watching their children with as much admiration as Jimin was.

Eva took the chance to sneak in, grabbing a seat nearest to the door and delicately placing her violin case down next to her. She sat back in her chair and watched for a few minutes, captivated by Jimin and his ways of teaching. She didn't know what warmed her heart more: the little kids toddling around the stage with Jimin, or how in love Jimin was with teaching them.

"Arms up, arms high up!" Jimin cooed out to them all in a tiny voice, noticing their arms were slacking. "Like a moon guys, like a moon!" Jimin raised his arms up and showed them the class how to do the move. He made it look easy, Eva imagined that not everyone could look as graceful as Jimin when they put their arms up.

The group did as they were told, and a considerable amount of arms went up. The mass of children and Jimin all danced a bit more until they all froze in their ending position, a pointed toe behind them and their arms high in the air, how Jimin said, like a moon.

"Wow guys, great job!" Jimin called as a few of the children's parents clapped politely for them. Jimin walked forward and began giving high fives to a few of the children near him, their small hands looking even tinier when they touched Jimin's.

"Okay, that's all for today," another teacher, looking no more than eight or nine herself, called, weaving her way around a few of her tiny students. The children began to disperse, parents stood up, and the two diffused into each other. Eva took this chance to catch Jimin. She stood up, taking her violin with her, and began walking toward him with a giant grin.

They caught eyes, and Jimin lit up. "Give me a moment!" She could hear him say to the other teacher. They met in the middle of the stairs to the stage, where Jimin encased her in a hug before pulling away. "Eva," he breathed, his eyes sparkling, "you're here!"

"I had a free moment!" Eva said, mimicking his enthusiasm. "Wow, I really wish I watched you more often. You're _so_ good with the little kids."

"Because they're so good with me!" Jimin laughed. "This is the same group that used the pom poms."

"Oh? And how was that?" Eva asked, her eyebrows raising. "I'm sure these small, sweet, and adorable children gave you absolutely no trouble at all and everything was so smooth," she said as a small smirk trembled off her lips, knowing exactly how four-year-olds were. "Am I wrong or am I wrong?"

"In my defense, only one of them tried to eat the pom pom," Jimin said, trying to hold back a smile. "I was already expecting them to be a little bit rowdy, but the class was really a lot of fun. A couple of the parents even emailed me after the class and told me how their kid couldn't stop talking about the pom poms."

"Because you're just that good," Eva gushed. "You were meant to teach little kids."

A light tint of pink coated Jimin's cheeks. "Hey, slow down," Jimin teased. "You're amazing too. There's no need to dump all this love on me when you deserve lots of it too."

"Really though, thank you for coming," Jimin said softly. "It really makes my day when you come, no matter how rare it is."

"I wish I could come more," Eva said, truly meaning it. "It's just..."

"Just what?" Jimin repeated.

"Nothing," Eva said quickly. "I actually have this entire afternoon and evening to myself, if you'd like to do something together."

If Jimin was smiling before, it paled in comparison to the excitement that flooded his face. "Really?" He squealed, and suddenly he was indistinguishable from his students and was a little kid again. "Are you sure? You're actually free? You're _actually_ free?"

"Yes!" Eva exclaimed. "We can go wherever. Right now, too," she said, slinging her violin case onto her back. "A coffee shop, maybe?"

Jimin's cheeks were rosy and circular like apples that matched his golden hair well. "We can go after I clean up, okay?" He broke into a grin and couldn't let go of it. "Eva, I'm so happy..."

Without warning, Jimin leaned in and pecked Eva's lips. Eva's entire body ignited with fire and she took a step back, gasping in surprise. 

"Ew!" A little boy shrieked nearby, jumping and pointing at the two of them with his tongue out and eyes scrunched.

"Yeah, what he said. No PDA," Eva snickered as Jimin became mahogany. "Go clean up. We _are_ in public, you know," she said, giving a knowing smile to Jimin as he nearly tripped on his feet walking away.

After standing for fifteen minutes with a shy, scared child that was waiting for her late parent, Jimin and Eva were off. They passed through the breathtaking scenery of The Jessop Center, admiring the golden and orange leaves on many of the trees.

A thought inside Eva blossomed: because of The London Symphony, Eva could become famous around her local community. People might stop and take photos with her, and she could chat with people that admired her and classical music. The career she dreamed of could finally take flight.

In dreaming about this, Eva realized she hadn't mentioned any of The London Symphony business to Jimin.

"Should we go to Tea and Cookies or Spoonfuls?" Jimin asked as they waited at an intersection.

"Spoonfuls, of course," Eva said, giving Jimin a quizzical look. "It always smells like caramel inside. Who wouldn't want that?"

Jimin laughed as a gust of wind blew his hair softly to the side, giving Eva a small few seconds to admire his unique beauty. Although he was self-conscious of it, his front right tooth was ever-so-slightly crooked. Whenever he smiled, the little pearl showed itself and Eva found it as one of the hundreds of little endearing things about him. Jimin would complain about his insecurities to her, but the more Jimin pointed out how unsightly his imperfections were, the more perfect they seemed to Eva.

"You're right," Jimin sighed, snaking his hand around hers to hold it. She played with his thumb, rubbing his nail and going over the miniscule creases.

"What do you think you'll order?" Eva asked, grinning at Jimin. "Wait, let me guess." Jimin raised his eyebrows and a small smirk emerged. "Oh?" He eyed her suspiciously.

"Iced coffee," Eva said, not breaking eye contact with Jimin. "Or sometimes a regular coffee but you add a few sugar packets. A bit of vanilla too. Oh, and also a vanilla scone, because you believe if you eat the two together the vanilla in the coffee is more flavorful."

Eva had to bite back a triumphant grin when Jimin's eyebrows raised even higher than they were before. "That was absolutely spot on," he murmured in awe. He narrowed his eyes at Eva as they stopped at a crosswalk. "Are you sure you can't read my mind?"

"No, but I do know you're a fool for scones," Eva teased, thinking back to the multiple times Jimin had video-called while eating one, or how he drew scones as one of his favorite foods when he and his students had to fill out a "Get To Know Me" paper.

The light turned red. Jimin and Eva scurried across the crosswalk, the idea of spending time together fueling them both as much as their food would after eating it. Spoonfuls, the coffee shop, was in sight, wedged in between a trendy thrift store and a local candle shop.

Upon entering, a replica of Van Gogh's Starry Night twinkled at them in a happy greeting, and the smell of caramel soon followed. The walls were painted a deep shade of maroon and charming fairy lights adorned the perimeter.

Eva adored every bit of the shop. Along with Starry Night and the dozens more paintings, other murals of superstars in all different concentrations of art were painted the walls as well. In the corner of the shop, everything from ballet dancers to b-boys covered the walls, their movements sharp and exact. Michael Jackson to Mariah Carey to Drake belted next to the dancers along with other famous singers. Parts of Shakespeare's Hamlet and Romeo and Juliet crowded another corner, and Duke Ellington played happily on his piano in another.

The store was so wonderfully vibrant and unique like it had its very own personality. It was a relatively new and popular store, well-known for being heavily influenced by The Jessop Center. Some considered it a tourist spot for Jessop Center goers.

Jimin hopped in the queue of people, the fireplace illuminating his hair to be bronze. "You should get us a seat," Jimin said, nodding to the rather large amount of people that were dining. "Do you know what I want?" Eva asked.

"I know what you like as much as you know what I like," he said, winking. Eva shook her head. "Okay, then. I'll find a seat." Eva walked into the maze of occupied seats, scanning around for a table for two people.

As Eva crawled through the shop for an empty spot, the masses of people lessened. She successfully acquired a table and sat down, taking her violin case off her back and setting it down by her legs. She sat back in her chair and her muscles in her back relaxed; Eva didn't realize how tired she actually was.

She thought for a moment about skipping any practicing and just going straight to bed after hanging out with Jimin, but she dismissed that thought immediately. Yoongi would be horrified to know that Eva didn't practice, it would clearly show in her playing. Even if he wasn't physically with her, the dark eyes of Yoongi in her mind followed and intimidated Eva into practicing whenever she didn't want to.

A soft, subtle shift in the atmosphere happened; children kept giggling as they ate their muffins and no one stopped talking, but Eva was suddenly very aware of the yellow caution tape that sat about fifteen feet away from her.

It was wrapped around two maroon walls, blocking off a section of the store. Eva realized the store was upgrading and adding more room; she didn't blame them. But what caught her off guard was what was being painted on the walls. At first, she didn't even notice them, possibly because they were already ingrained in her brain.

The eyes of Yoongi, painted lavishly in colors of black, brown, white, and hints of red, burrowed tunnels inside her own. His eyes weren't the only part of him on the wall, his face, neck, and shoulders were also in the process of being painted. None of that mattered though, because of the scorching intensity of the eyes that Eva saw every day was enough to make her forget everything else.

Eva tensed and wrapped her legs around her violin case. She moved her hands to allow her head to rest on them, only to be horrified to see that she left sweat prints on the table from where they were before. Of course she was unnerved - it seemed every moment Eva had to herself, the ghost found ways to snake himself back into her life. It sometimes came in the form of practicing more instead of playing card games with Adaline, or studying and marking music instead of considering options for a Master's degree.

Eva looked around for Jimin, then stood up and scrambled to sit in the seat opposite to where she was. He could sit and watch the eyes instead. Almost instantaneously, Jimin appeared out of the crowd of people only seconds later, carrying a tray of food and drinks, earning a sigh of relief from Eva. He set down the tray, all smiles, and began to distribute their food. "I _still_ can't get over that you don't like coffee," he said as he placed a mug of hot chocolate in front of her.

Eva sniffed it, its rich and chocolatey smell enticing her senses. "I still can't get over that you _like_ coffee," she countered, hoping a casual chat would make her forget the eyes behind her. "It's so bitter, and if you add lots of sugar to it, it's now just extremely unhealthy. I could do better and just eat five cotton candies if I wanted that much sugar."

Jimin slapped three sugar packets down in front of him, chuckling. "I guess dance will burn it off for me, then," he said, promptly ripping one and dumping it into his coffee while maintaining eye contact with Eva. His smirk only grew bigger when Eva rolled her eyes and put her spoon into her hot chocolate, stirring it around to look at the tiny marshmallows that resurfaced.

Their small nature put a smile on Eva's face - there was something about tiny foods that was so endearing. It was precious that someone had come up with such miniscule morsels.

"What's so funny?" Jimin asked, taking a sip of his glucose-drenched coffee. A little coffee mustache appeared above his lip when he finished, and Eva had to bite back a smile.

"Tiny marshmallows." She stirred her spoon around in her drink and captured a few, lifting them up. "Aren't they so cute?"

"Not as cute as you." Jimin puffed his chest out like that was the most legendary pick-up line ever.

"They're not as small as you, either," Eva said, stirring the marshmallows back into the hot chocolate. When Jimin pouted, Eva rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Oh come on, you should have seen that coming."

"I did," Jimin said, giving a small smile. "But it hits me every time." He munched on his scone, occasionally dipping it in his coffee, now swirling with vanilla. "Tell me stuff," he said, speaking with his mouth full. He laughed at his own silliness, then carried on with it. "Tell me violin stuff," he said with his mouth still full, "since you saw my dance stuff."

Heat flowed through Eva and excitement took over inside. "There's actually something enormous that I've been wanting to say!" She cried. Jimin tilted his head in wonder. "Woah, what is it?" He asked, placing his scone down.

"Jimin, do you know who the London Symphony Orchestra is?" Eva asked, trying to suppress a smile. She watched as Jimin looked up in thought, then slowly nodded his head. "I think so," he said, rubbing his chin. "They're a famous orchestra. Why, did you get tickets to go see them or something?"

Eva's eyes glimmered. "They actually invited me to play with them. As a soloist."

Jimin's mug clattered onto the table. His eyes grew wide and a smile was trying to break free from his lips. He almost stood up, then sat down, covering his mouth so only his shimmering eyes were seen. "No way!" He whispered. "Eva, you're serious?"

Eva nodded solemnly, then broke out into a huge smile. "Yes, I'm dead serious!" She cried through fits of laughter that were bursting out of her like rockets. "You have absolutely no idea how excited I am! This could totally start my career, but you already know that-"

"We need to celebrate," Jimin said, a knowing smile blossoming. "I'll treat you with something, maybe get you that huge box of cupcakes like I did that one time-"

"Oh no!" Eva cried, her face so red with continuous laughter that she looked like a cherry. "I still can't believe Adaline even allowed you into the apartment with, what, fifty cupcakes?"

"It was seventy-three," Jimin murmured, giving a cheeky grin.

Eva shook her head. "Oh gosh. You really can't do that again. They were so tasty but I had to give away about half of them because me and Adaline couldn't eat them fast enough," she said. Eva watched as Jimin shifted his position to look at something behind her, his eyes squinting. A bucket of fear unloaded into Eva's stomach, realizing what he was looking at. However, Jimin said nothing about it and looked back at her in admiration. "Okay, we should think of something to do together to celebrate..."

Their conversation spread out into twenty, forty-five, sixty minutes. Their almost-empty mugs had grown cold and Jimin's scone crumbs stale, but their lively conversation together had yet to wither. Eva and Jimin had come up with ideas to celebrate The London Symphony, but no consensus was made and they got distracted often. "It'll just be a surprise then," Jimin had said, giving a sly wink to his girlfriend. "We should clean up before we start to grow roots in our seats."

As they were carried their trays to the trash can, Jimin nudged Eva. "Hey," he said softly, motioning towards the walls with murals of musicians. "Imagine yourself being up on the wall. Wouldn't that be wonderful?" He dropped his napkins and utensils into the trash. "Eva Romanov," he said, holding his hands out like he was looking through a camera.

"That would be incredible," Eva sighed, glancing at all of the happy and smiling faces of the entertainers. To be one of them would be the ultimate dream, the ultimate goal. She'd make a positive difference in the world and hopefully inspire thousands in a way that savants would never be able to do. Eva looked over at the unfinished section of the store, looking at the bestial eyes that belonged to her teacher.

She hoped she'd never become like him.


	9. fugue

**YOONGI'S EYES** had convinced Eva to practice that night. After she relaxed with Jimin in the coffee shop, they walked to her apartment. "I'll see you tomorrow," Jimin murmured before giving a soft kiss on Eva's cheek and waving goodnight. Eva was on top of the world as she climbed up the stairs to her apartment, unsure of what she would do or find when she would get there.

She found Adaline lounging on the couch with her earbuds in, watching something on her phone. Adaline made brief eye contact with Eva and she gave a small smile, then turned her attention back to her screen. Eva was used to a reaction like that with Adaline, as they tended to avoid each other whenever possible. The only reason they roomed together was otherwise they would have never been able to afford the luxury of having a music room for practicing.

Eva entered the room and closed the door, placing her violin case on the ground only to unlatch and open it up. She took off the protective velvet and picked up her bronze violin, cradling it like a baby.

As she tuned her instrument, Eva watched the trees' green leaves sway in the late October breeze. The leaves would soon change color, making her walks with Jimin that much more colorful.

A cream colored bag dotted with music notes lay next to her music stand. Inside were at least four or five concertos, an etude and exercise book, a book for scales and arpeggios, and a worn, brown, tattered journal. While the music books boasted their newness, the old journal struggled to hold its spine together.

Neat and methodical notes lay inside the journal, juxtaposed against random bits of knowledge in such trollish handwriting it took weeks to decipher. In ways, this old journal was more helpful than her published books.

A little more than three years ago, Eva found the journal wedged behind the piano in the practice room where she and Yoongi had lessons. She had been intrigued from the beginning and had spent many nights turning through the book's pages in wonder. She had sucked up every word from, at the time, this unknown violinist. The only identification on the journal were two letters, YM, which Eva now knew stood for Yoongi Min.

Eva sifted through her music and placed a few books on her stand, opening an etude book to warm up on. She raised her violin to her shoulder and prepared to play, taking in a breath, feeling the metal strings and tapping the bow with her fingers.

Adaline burst through the door to the music room, making Eva jump ten feet in the air. "Eva, what should we do for dinner?" Adaline asked, unbothered that she nearly made Eva go into cardiac arrest. Adaline smoothed her braids and put a hand on her hip. "I'm feeling Chinese, but we can make something here too if you really want."

By "we," Adaline meant Eva would not touch one pan and Adaline would do the whole meal herself. Eva was competent at cooking, but Adaline loved to be a control freak and handle everything herself. By mentioning Chinese, flying pieces of orange chicken flew by Eva's line of vision, and she wondered if she would ever be able to eat Chinese food normally again. "Let's just make something here," Eva sighed, taking her violin off her shoulder. "Rent is coming up anyway."

Adaline nodded once and left the room. Eva was grateful for her timely exit, for right after she jumped right into her warm up.

Mid-way through a D Major arpeggio, Adaline knocked on the door and announced that dinner was ready. Eva stopped and put down her violin, placing it carefully inside her case without closing the lid. Her fingers ached to dance on the strings more, she was just getting started, and yet again food was the barrier in front of practicing.

Eva stumbled into the apartment's kitchen, humming an etude she had just played. Adaline had prepared a feast of boxed macaroni and cheese with a side of microwavable peas. The cheap food had the pleasure of sitting on two of the girls' china plates instead of one of the plethora of paper plates they had, and as usual, the dining table was as spotless as the cleaner.

Adaline placed two plastic cups down on the counter then turned around to pull out silverware. She was quiet, as usual, saving her words for only when they were needed. Eva snatched a plate and began loading it with macaroni and cheese, then scooped some peas on top. She muttered a thank you when Adaline held out a fork for her, then put her plate on the table and filled up a glass with water.

Adaline filled up her plate and sat across from her, fiddling with her fork before using it to eat her food. Silence filled the kitchen, only the sounds of the utensils scraping on plates and the quiet hums of the refrigerator and the dishwasher were made known. One would never guess that the two of them had been roommates for two years for how noncommunicative they were. The radio inside Eva's mind began to play, and she became occupied by an RM song that Jimin had told her about. She tapped her feet on the floor to the beat, eager to finish her food and get back to her violin.

Both Eva and Adaline visibly jumped when their dishwasher made a noise to announce it was done. "I didn't even realize it was on!" Eva commented and began to stand up, but her roommate was already ahead of her. Adaline had already whisked over to the dishwasher. Eva sat down and watched as her roommate opened the appliance, allowing sets of clean white plates to show their newfound cleanliness.

"You know, it feels like I'm the one always doing the dishes," Adaline said softly, making a point to make eye contact with Eva before bending over and picking up another plate. Inside, Eva knew it was true, but she never did dishes because Adaline was always enthusiastically on top of it, like the dishwasher would explode if it did not have plates in it at all times. There was no chance to do them if Adaline was there.

"I can _help_ ," Eva said, standing up and walking over to her roommate, however, the look Adaline gave was enough to make her stop in her tracks. "No, just sit and eat," she said, waving a handful of forks at her to send Eva back to her seat. Eva didn't move. The two of them stared at each other like they were in a duel for the dishwasher. "I'm helping," Eva said, trying to keep a smile on her face. She couldn't believe this, of all things, was what they were arguing about.

Before Adaline could make a move, Eva had already grabbed a plate and was taking it to a cabinet. She reached up to open it when she was met with an enthusiastic "no!"

Eva whipped around to find her roommate staring at the plate in her hands like it was a bomb that could go off at any moment. Adaline's eyes swiveled up to Eva's.

"Plates go _here_ ," Adaline sighed, snatching the plate from Eva's hands and moving it to the cabinet next to where she would have put it. "That other cabinet is if there's no more room in this one," Adaline said haughtily, marching back to the dishwasher where she began unloading more plates. Eva grimaced - last week, the extra cabinet had been the primary cabinet.

Defeated, Eva sat down and stabbed a few pieces of cheesy macaroni with her fork. "You complain that I never do dishes, and yet, you don't allow me to do them," Eva murmured, loud enough for Adaline to hear. Adaline turned around, holding a glass cup in her hands with her eyes narrowed. With a soft hmph, she turned back around and continued working alone.

Eva spooned what was left of the macaroni into her mouth and drained her glass of water. She placed the plate and glass by Adaline while she barely held back every fiber of her being from saying something she really shouldn't.

Avoiding eye contact, Eva exited the kitchen and was soon back with her violin, climbing up and down scales and drowning out any annoyance she had with Adaline. Eva pulled out the Prokofiev piece she was going to play in a few days and went over it, eliminating any lapses in memory and solidifying the phrasing Yoongi had told her to do.

Before she realized, it had been two hours and the sky was darkening. Violin discarded next to her, Eva sat curled up on the floor flipping through Yoongi's journal.

The journal was essential for practicing, but reading it like a story was a whole adventure on its own. Eva loved to read Yoongi's messy inked writing and scribbled notes in the margins. Just his handwriting was an experience to read.

By the time she packed her violin away officially, stars poked out through the black blanket in the sky, twinkling down in their efflorescence. Eva changed into her fuzziest pair of pajamas and felt like she was living in a cloud. The kitchen's silence greeted her and she was glad to see Adaline was not in the apartment at all. She figured she went to study, but oftentimes Eva would get carried away and imagine Adaline had some sort of crazy alter ego - spy Adaline, supervillain Adaline, or necromancer Adaline. It was boring to know she was just a piano major.

Those thoughts occupied her mind while Eva warmed up a cup of milk. Why did Lady Fate choose to place Adaline on a piano bench and a violin on Eva's shoulder? If not for her, or perhaps her sister, Luck, Eva severely doubted she would have ever met Jimin - or Yoongi. Would all of those hours spent practicing violin have been put to something else? Would Eva's life be better or worse than it was now? Would fame still greet her in another profession?

Eva tried to imagine herself as a scientist, diluting liquids or analyzing cells under a microscope, suddenly realizing the cure for cancer. It all seemed so far off, like a faint memory from childhood. Violin was her life as much as it was in Yoongi's death. Had not Eva found Yoongi's journal wedged behind the piano on that fateful day, her current life would be as implausible as her other lives that had never happened.

Eva unlocked her phone and took a photo of her creamy glass of milk, sending it to Jimin purely to remind him that she was a lunatic that did not like tea. A life where Eva drank chamomile tea to go to bed was just as likely as Yoongi becoming a rapper or Eva a scientist - it would never happen.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

 **IT HIT** Eva that this would be the first practice session with Yoongi since his tantrum she was walking through the long hallways to the practice rooms the next morning. In her few years of being under his teaching, he had never lost his temper quite like that. Eva's hands were cold as ice as she opened the door to the practice room.

"When is your London Symphony performance?" Yoongi asked, gliding toward Eva as she entered. His eyes were firmly set on her, and he raised his eyebrows when he didn't get an immediate answer. Eva opened her mouth and then shut it. He wasn't going to bring up the fiasco?

"Well? When is it?" Yoongi asked again, bringing Eva back to the present moment.

"It's in eight months," Eva said slowly, putting her violin case and bag on the floor next to her. "We have plenty of time to prepare something to play. Why?"

"Curiosity," Yoongi hummed, then hovered above the piano seat and motioned at Eva's violin case. Eva bent down and began to get her music and violin out.

Something wasn't feeling quite right, and it wasn't her annoyance at Yoongi's mysterious memory loss. "We'll work on the Prokofiev first since it's coming up soon," Yoongi called out as Eva applied rosin onto her bow, "and then I have a little surprise to give to you afterward."

Eva could hear the smirk on Yoongi's face as soon as he said it. "A surprise?" Eva repeated, imagining any surprise from Yoongi could not be that great.

Yoongi only answered with a small smile and a glint in his dead eyes. Eva sighed and stared at the empty music stand in front of her. With how quickly the concert was approaching, memorization had to be done. Eva took a breath and eradicated any lingering Yoongi thoughts that could be a distraction. She placed her violin on her shoulder and began to play the first airy notes of the piece.

Twenty minutes of magical music occupied the practice room, the highs, lows, fasts, and slows each showing their personality until the very last note was played. Eva put down her violin in exhaustion and looked up at Yoongi, expecting floods of critique and criticism. Instead, Yoongi put his hands together and smiled to himself. "I think we're done with that," he whispered, and Eva nearly took a tumble. "Wait, what?" Eva stuttered out. "You don't have anything to say?"

"That was nice," Yoongi said, looking at his fingers. He glanced over to her. "A very nice performance. Masterfully executed." Eva blinked in disbelief, frozen as Yoongi floated down from the ceiling and hovered on the floor. "Get my journal out of your bag. It's time for surprises."

Eva felt like she was in a different body as she got out the journal, even it feeling foreign despite the many times she flipped through its pages. "Go to the back," Yoongi instructed, his sneaky grin widening when Eva went to the last page. "And pull out the first piece of paper in that back flap."

Eva's eyes widened when she realized there was a flap that she had never seen before there. She slipped her fingers under it and pulled out an old, yellowed piece of paper. She put the journal under her arm and opened up the paper, curious to see what it was. Her eyebrows shot up when she saw what it was.

Music, written in pen, covered every inch of the paper. Eva gasped at how neat the notes were arranged, there was not a smudge to be seen.

"It's nice, isn't it?" Yoongi said softly, gliding behind Eva to peer at the music. "My very own composition. My _third_ , actually." He smiled when he saw that Eva's eyes widened even more than they were. "Yes, a third piece of mine." Yoongi chuckled, then floated over to the piano bench and kicked one leg over another.

"And you're going to play it."


	10. overture

_three years ago_

**ON** **JULY** **11TH, 2016,** rain poured from the sky. Rain was not uncommon July weather, but it was certainly unwelcome. People hid under canopies and umbrellas, cars and children splashed puddle water onto unwitting bystanders, and anyone who really needed to get somewhere was running to avoid the downpour.

Eva was one such person, running to The Jessop Center and becoming more and more soaked by the minute. She was thankful she had decided to wear her older pair of Converse because she seemed to step in mud puddles every two feet. If she was smarter, she would have bought an umbrella to replace the one she had broken a month prior, and she wouldn't be in this situation.

Jimin wasn't any help in keeping Eva dry either. Instead of walking with her as usual, the poor baby had caught a cold and was reluctantly calling a substitute teacher for his kids while he stayed in bed, coughing up a lung. Eva could picture Jimin's umbrella hanging in his apartment, wishing she could have it in her hands to shield herself from God's tears. Fortunately, she didn't have to run much longer, for The Jessop Center was beginning to peak out from the horizon.

Eva burst through the door, wringing out her damp hair and wiping water off of her arms as she caught her breath. However, the adrenaline was short lived. As Eva slowed her breathing, the reason why she had run the whole way here caught up to her. It was time to lock herself up in a practice room and spend time with her violin.

Just the thought of practicing violin made Eva groan. She was not looking forward to wasting her afternoon in a claustrophobic room when she could be spending it doing something much less productive. Eva managed to stand up and drag herself to the staircase entrance, ambition being the only thing holding her back from bolting out the door and into the rain again.

Eva took her sweet time getting down the stairs to the practice rooms, like there was some monster that she was afraid of. When she finally reached the basement floor, Eva quickly realized that many other musicians had the same idea as her. A tiny part of her hoped all of the rooms would be occupied, though she still scouted every room to see if there was an opening.

The very last practice room in the far hallway was unoccupied, and Eva took her chance to slip in before anyone else stole it. She slipped her violin case off her shoulders, sighing in relief when the weight of it was gone. Eva tossed her bag of music books on the piano bench, then threw a few books onto the creaky music stand in front of her after sifting through them.

"Let's get this over with," Eva muttered as she bent down and opened her case. Her shiny violin greeted her, quite excited that it got to see light for the first time in days. Eva picked it up and tuned it, then decided which exercise she'd use to start this two-hour session.

Eva found a disgustingly difficult warm up - one with horrible shifts and an awkward key signature. _Yeah, why not,_ she thought to herself as she began to play the first few notes of it. Within ten seconds, she had flipped to a new page when she realized that she definitely could not even attempt that warm up until a much later date.

She found a warm up more her match and began to play it, trying to make it more interesting by adding dynamics and phrasing to the stagnant notes. When the last note finished ringing, Eva convinced herself that this practice wouldn't be nearly as horrible as she had originally thought.

Eva pulled out her symphony music next, pursing her lips when she saw how high and fast the notes were in a few passages. She hummed the notes to get a feel for them, but then gave up quickly and decided to work on a few easier passages.

After an hour of dedicated practice, and Eva had gotten down the easier parts down. It was unfortunately time for the ugly high parts. Eva raised her violin and said a prayer before starting her treacherous climb up to the stratospheric notes.

She must have sounded like screeching owl from outside the practice room. Eva put down her violin, and, in frustration, wrote a few fingerings to make the notes flow more smoothly. Eva put her violin up again and placed her fingers down, feeling the cool metal strings on her fingertips.

"Don't even start," called a cool, crisp voice from the wall of the practice room. Eva nearly dropped her violin and whipped around, looking for the source of the voice. Eva peaked out the window of the practice room door, but her blood chilled when she saw no one.

"I'm _in_ the practice room," the voice called out again. Eva began to shake, and she nearly screamed when a full-bodied ghost floated through the wall and into her sight.

The ghost was pale, deeply contrasting his dark suit that clung to his legs and chest. His hair and eyes were equally midnight black, giving the effect that he was monochrome. Long hair hid the left side of his face, allowing his one eye to barrel vicious tunnels inside Eva's own.

"Please don't scream," the ghost whispered and sighed when Eva began shaking even more. "And stop shaking. I'm not here to harm you."

Eva calmed her limbs, though her breath was ragged and her heart was about to beat out of her chest. "Who are you?" She choked out, looking at the ghost up and down, not believing what she was seeing.

The ghost's thick eyebrows raised high into the air. "You don't know who _I_ am?" He asked, his eye growing wide. He seemed offended. "Perhaps this will make you know."

To Eva's utter amazement, a golden, sun-kissed violin materialized into the ghost's hands, and a bow shortly after in the other. He placed it on his shoulder carefully and slowly, and Eva found this somewhat familiar. Looking at Eva briefly, he shut his eyes and began to play. Soft, warbling notes flowed out of the violin, and Eva instantly knew the song. "You're- oh, I know!" she gasped, then looked at his left fingers for confirmation. The two missing fingers made the identity of the ghost - this entity - crystal clear, and Eva was shocked she hadn't realized before.

The ghost put down his violin at Eva's outburst. "You know, it's rude to interrupt the performer," he sneered.

"Yoongi Min," Eva whispered, his comment going over her head. "Wow, you're quite possibly one of the greatest violinists ever." Her first smile spread across her face, but it disappeared immediately. "You're dead, though."

"Really?" Yoongi groaned, floating over to the piano bench with such ease Eva thought he was being moved by a fan. "I hadn't noticed."

"Sorry," Eva said, feeling her face turn hot. "It's just that everyone I know is alive. I've never talked to a dead person before," she shot back, biting her tongue before she said anything worse.

Yoongi nodded at her words, blinking at the ceiling meekly. "Fair enough," he whispered, then kicked one leg of another and focused his eyes directly at Eva, making her heart stop.

"Well, do you know why _this_ dead person has decided to appear to you?" Yoongi asked, his eyes averting away from her. Eva's eyes widened. "There are more ghosts?" She gasped.

"No, I'm the lone ghost here," Yoongi said softly, his eyebrows raising. "Which is why I have decided to show myself to you, a fellow violinist." His eyes shifted over to Eva's music bag discarded on the floor. "Is there a journal in there?" He asked.

Eva quickly walked over to her bag and pulled out the old journal. "This?" She asked, then watched as Yoongi's eyes seemed to glimmer upon seeing it.

"That's exactly it," Yoongi said, a small smile crawling up his lips. "That journal is actually mine."

Eva's mouth fell open, and she looked at the journal in front of her in awe. "Do you want it back?" She asked, feeling like her fingerprints were trespassing on it. But to her surprise, Yoongi shook his head. "It would be no use to me. I can't even hold it," he said as his eyes flashed down to his translucent hands. "Think of it as my gift to you."

"Gift?" Eva echoed.

Yoongi nodded. "It's been way too long since anyone has ever held it. I was afraid it would never be found," he sighed, beginning to swing his legs. "When you found it, I saw I had a chance to finally talk to someone," he murmured. Yoongi looked up at Eva with big, sad eyes. "Even just talking to you makes me realize that I've been so lonely for all these years."

Eva's mind flashed to a photo of Yoongi from a newspaper a long time ago - one where he had a beaming grin while he waved to an audience after a performance. She couldn't imagine the pain he felt going into forced solitude when he was such an amiable person. "I'm sorry," Eva said, her words feeling light and meaningless on her tongue.

"All is well," Yoongi whispered, his eyes gravitating over to Eva's violin sitting in her case. "Violin makes it bearable. As I'm sure it does for you, too?"

"Eh," Eva coughed out, shrugging her shoulders. "It honestly took me a whole day to convince myself to come here and practice. I haven't touched my violin for a few days."

Yoongi's eyelids grew close to one another and his nose wrinkled. Next to Eva, the music stand creaked. "Unfortunate," Yoongi whispered. "Unfortunate that you let such a talent slip like that. Do you ever want to stand out?" He growled, cocking his head like a wolf would as it sized up its prey.

Eva gulped. "I mean, yes," she stuttered, opening her mouth to continue when Yoongi's stare silenced her. "Then why don't you practice?" Yoongi thundered. He didn't seem the type of ghost to scream at her, but Eva knew well that Yoongi did not tolerate laziness - it was visible in all of his accomplishments, so it was natural for him to attack her on this.

Eva twidled her fingers, at a loss for words. She didn't know how to explain to Yoongi that she wanted to change careers and was close to giving up violin for good. "It..." Eva started to say, slumping her shoulders. "It feels like practicing will never make me any better. I know you know that it's so much harder to improve when you're already so good. You put in so much effort to get a little better, and when you started violin you just had to put in a little to get so much better."

She eased, relaxing the muscles in her back when she saw that Yoongi was listening to what she was saying. Eva didn't think it was great to pour emotions out to a ghost, but something inside her yearned for help and clung to the thought that this professional could give her some life-changing advice.

"So... it takes immense amounts of guilt tripping to even get my violin out. Yes, I want to get better, but no matter if I practice or not I'm always in the same place in the orchestra, behind the same people and in front of the same. So what is the point of practicing if I never move?" Eva chewed on her lip as Yoongi shifted in his seat slightly, his eyes gleaming over her and her violin. He folded his hands into his lap and allowed his dark form to sink into a comfortable position.

"Hmm," Yoongi mumbled. "An interesting perspective. I guess I never had that issue because I loved violin so much," Yoongi said, nodding to his words. "Do you believe that, if you... er," Yoongi stuttered. "I just realized I don't know what your name is."

Eva's lip curved upward slightly. "Eva. Eva Romanov."

"Eva... if you had your passion for violin reignited, do you think you could find yourself practicing more?"

Eva shrugged. "I... I don't know," she said honestly. "It makes sense that I'd want to play more if I liked it. But I still think that no matter how much I practice nothing will ever change."

"Then maybe you're practicing wrong," Yoongi mused. "Say," he said softly, placing a hand on his chin. "Do you have a violin teacher?"

Eva shook her head. "No. I would, but I have absolutely no money for something like that." She sighed. "I guess I having a direction and a teacher would really help me practice more."

Eva looked up to find Yoongi smiling an ominous smile. His fingers were tapping together and he seemed to be bouncing up and down. "Remember how I said I was lonely?" Yoongi asked, and smiled even more when Eva nodded her head wordlessly. "I think I have something, someone, that could help you."

Yoongi floated up into the middle of the room, suspended by nothing. "Me," he whispered. "I'm talking about me that could help you. I could be your violin teacher for free, and in return, you show up every day to these lessons and keep me, busy, per se." A corner of his lip turned upward when Eva's mouth dropped open. "Well? What do you think?"

For the first time in a while, Eva could taste hope. "That sounds absolutely amazing!" Eva cried, then gasped and had to remember to keep her voice down. "Yes!" She whispered, nodding her head up and down. This had to be perfect. Not only was Eva getting a teacher of her own for free, this teacher was _Yoongi Min_.

"Good," Yoongi said, nodding in satisfaction. "We can start tomorrow, and I'd prefer the mornings because almost no one is in the practice rooms then." Eva nodded her head viciously. "Yes! Of course!" She choked back tears, not believing that any of this was real. Yoongi could have said that the practice would be at three in the morning and Eva would have been just as enthusiastic.

Another thought hit Eva - Jimin would be coming to The Jessop Center early in the morning too. Eva was already imagining all the time they would get to spend together during their break, talking about their work lives and indulging in each other more than they would have in the past.

"So, tomorrow," Eva sang. "I'll be there, bright and early." Eva walked over to her violin and began packing it away after looking at the time on her phone.

"I can help you with the high notes then," Yoongi said, chuckling when Eva nearly jumped when she heard that. "They were quite screechy when I heard you play them a bit ago."

Eva's face grew hot as she placed her bow into her case. "Oh, I'm just so excited," Eva gushed. Every problem she had with violin could be solved because Yoongi was there. "So honored, too. I can't believe you're actually going to help me. And you're _you_." Eva grinned, latching her case and slinging it over her back. "Thank you so much. You don't know how much this means to me."

"It's nothing," Yoongi said, waving his hands dismissively. "You're helping _me_ too," he said smoothly, folding his arms across his chest. "If this room isn't taken, come to this one tomorrow. Okay?"

Eva nodded. "Absolutely. Thank you again. I'll see you tomorrow!" And with that, Eva shut the door and bolted out of the hallway of practice rooms, her threshold for happiness and adrenaline overflowing immensely.

Yoongi waited until he could hear Eva's footsteps pounding up the stairs away from the practice rooms to start laughing. It started out as a low and quiet chuckle, but soon Yoongi was on par with a cackling villain from a movie.

He threw his head back, letting out everything he had been holding in from their conversation. As if loneliness could curb the genius Yoongi Min.

He had hoped Eva would react how she did. Eva believed that he was saving her from her pitiful violin career, but Yoongi had far more tricks up his translucent sleeve than he let on. As if Yoongi Min would be that gracious to an insignificant human being. He was pleased to know he was still good at manipulating the strings of people just as well as the ones on a violin.

Yoongi floated upward, surveying the room. "Oh Eva," Yoongi sang as he exited the practice room through the wall, "thank _you_."


	11. humoresque

**EVA'S** **EYES SHOT** from the piece of music in her hand to Yoongi. She tried to make some sense out of what he had told her, but nothing clicked.

"This is where you laugh in my face," Eva whispered. She glanced at the music in her hands, looking at the lines on every note. Yoongi's notes. There was no way he thought she was ready to play this piece. "This is a joke, right?"

"Why would I joke?" Yoongi said softly, his pale hands tapping a beat on his forearm. "You wouldn't even be seeing the music if I didn't think you were ready."

Eva looked back to Yoongi, then around the room as if searching for a hidden camera, then down at the music again. She flipped through the yellowed pages, her stomach threatening to convulse. It was an absolute honor for Eva to be given this opportunity, but the honor was heavy on her shoulders.

"Why?" Eva managed to let out. "Why me?" There were dozens of violinists that walked through The Jessop Center daily. He could have planted hundreds of copies of the piece throughout the building and prayed that one violinist would be intelligent enough to pick it up.

"Why not you?" Yoongi countered, crossing his arms. "I believe you're good enough." His eyes glimmered. "How about you look the piece over?" He asked softly, though it sounded like it was ordered.

Eva glanced down at the sheets of yellowed paper in her hands. "The notes are so high," Eva ogled, then groaned when she turned to another page and saw mountainous chords and many, many measures of sixteenth notes. "This is quite something," Eva managed to choke out.

"It's a masterwork, isn't it" Yoongi sang. "A cathartic release of my full talent and emotions."

"Oh?" Eva said airily. "Were your emotions trying to torture innocent violinists when you wrote this?"

Yoongi's eyes sharpened. "Watch it," he hissed. "I wrote this with the intent to showcase the violin's range and the violinist's technical ability. So yes, naturally it's going to break those with only delusions of grandeur," he said airily. "But for those with true talent? It is designed to make the violinist look the best they possibly can. Of course, if you don't think you're ready, we can move back to the boring pieces." He looked at his nails.

Eva's face flushed. "No. If you think I can handle it, then I won't let you down."

"If you haven't noticed already," Yoongi added, "I also conveniently wrote in fingerings and bowings for you and other violinists that will pick this up later," Yoongi added, covering his mouth as he let out a prolonged yawn. "With that being said, we are free to begin."

Two hours felt like ten. When Yoongi had decided his piece had enough attention, Eva was already packing up her violin in relief and was ready to go home. "Um, thanks for letting me play this," Eva said as she slung her violin case and her bag of music over her shoulder. "But I'm curious. Are you expecting me to play this with The London Symphony?"

Yoongi had moved around in their practice quite a bit and was now sitting on top of the piano. "Oh, no," he said, giving his translucent head a firm shake. "I wouldn't be able to see it. You have to do it here."

"Really?" Eva knitted her eyebrows together and cocked her head. "So then what are we doing for The London Symphony?"

Yoongi shrugged. "I don't know, you said it was a long time away," he said, turning his attention to his fingernails.

"The London Symphony may be more important to you, but this is my piece, and I am your teacher," he continued. Eva tried not to show Yoongi how disappointed she was, and he didn't seem to notice as he stared at her with solid eyes.

"This will open so many more doors than the..." Yoongi paused. "London Symphony Orchestra." There was a strong distaste in his mouth, though Eva couldn't figure out why. "So consider this a favor."

Eva nodded, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. She didn't want to argue with Yoongi, seeing as how he reacted previously to her criticism with his piece. "Right, right," Eva sighed.

"Oh!" Yoongi hummed, looking back up at Eva. "You can record my piece as well and place it on a cassette or vinyl for selling."

Eva blinked, then had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. "Yoongi, we don't even use those anymore," she reminded him gently. Eva didn't quite know what his opinions were on the world moving while he was dead, but she had just received a reminder of how scary he could be, so she chose her words carefully.

"Then what do you use?" He asked, blinking in confusion.

"Well, there are a number of options," Eva explained. "Most people use Apple Music or Spotify."

Yoongi's face contorted like a grandma had suddenly squished his cheeks together. _"Spongify_ _?"_

As Yoongi's ignorance made itself apparent, Eva had to contain her laughter. She started to realize this wouldn't be a scary conversation, but the funniest she'd have in a while. "Spotify," she corrected, then pulled out her phone. "Do you know what this is?" She asked, giving her device a little shake.

Yoongi nodded slowly. "It's a phone," he said with a hint of uncertainty in his voice. "Because I've seen people talk on them. But I don't know what they're doing when they touch the screen a lot."

"I can explain to you!" Eva said, giving Yoongi the kindest smile she could muster. Every moment of this interaction made her want to tease him, but she knew that he wouldn't be to open to it.

Eva turned on her phone as Yoongi floated over her shoulder in curiosity. "Who's that?" He barked when a selfie of Jimin and Eva appeared on the lockscreen.

"Oh, that's my boyfriend, Jimin," Eva said as she typed in her password. Yoongi's eyebrows furrowed as he looked over Eva's shoulder at Jimin's smiling face.

"Okay, look," Eva said as she opened Spotify. "I don't really know how to explain this to you, but having this app, application, on my phone allows me to access everything the app has to offer. In this case, Spotify allows me to play all different types of music." She turned her head and almost jumped when Yoongi was practically leaning on her shoulder to get a better look at her phone.

"Do you know Korean?" Eva asked, clicking onto an RM playlist.

Yoongi's eyes lingered on Eva's phone screen, then he looked up and nodded. "I grew up learning English and Korean at home," he said, then frowned. "I don't know if I remember it."

"That's fine!" Eva said, then clicked on a song to play. A soft, smooth, and deep voice filled the room. Eva rocked around on the balls of her feet, looking up to see Yoongi's reaction. He stood transfixed on the phone, and Eva could imagine many gears churning through his head. "Do you like it?" She asked over the baritone rapping.

"It's fine," Yoongi muttered. "Go to something else. You can, right?" Yoongi's disinterest was apparent, so Eva decided to search for an artist she knew he would enjoy.

"This may sound familiar," she hummed, and a classical song sang out of Eva's phone speakers. Yoongi's eyes widened. " _I'm_ on Spongify?" He gasped.

Eva laughed. "Yeah, you are." It was amusing, and surprising, how enticed he was with the phone and music. Yoongi floated down to the piano and shut his eyes, letting his own music fill his soul. "Who's playing this?" He said softly. "They aren't bad."

Eva looked down at her phone and grinned. "Hilary Hahn," she replied. "She's incredible."

"Indeed," Yoongi agreed. "Almost as good as me."

Eva rolled her eyes, glad that he couldn't see her. "I suppose," she whispered. Eva let the song play through for a while, then paused it. Yoongi's eyes snapped open.

"Hey!" He whimpered. "I was listening to that."

"I know, but I should probably be going," Eva said, closing out of Spotify and shoving the phone in her back pocket. She gave a small smile to him. "But that's Spotify! People can listen to your music just like how we were."

Yoongi sighed, his shoulders melting downward. His lips turned downward back into a scowl, and he seemed to be back to his normal, gloomy self. "Fine," he grumbled. "If you're not going to entertain me anymore, leave."

Despite Yoongi turning to ice faster than his fingers could fly around his violin, Eva knew that he had truly enjoyed what she had shown him with Spotify.

"Thanks for letting me play your piece, by the way," Eva hummed as she opened the practice room door. "It's an honor."

"It certainly is," Yoongi muttered back, his eyes glimmering with anticipation. He floated up from the piano and vanished through the wall.

Eva watched the place where Yoongi had been moments earlier before leaving. She wasn't just kissing up to Yoongi, she truly felt privileged to have a chance at such a piece. Though, as excited as she was, Eva couldn't help but feel he had rehearsed and planned this revealing for a very long time.

The door had not even slammed behind her when Eva saw Meg walking into a practice room. They made eye contact immediately, and Meg shrieked with excitement.

"Eva!" She cried, dashing through the hallway to hug Eva. "I knew you'd be here around this time, I felt it!" Meg pulled away and adjusted the pink viola case on her back, decorated from top to bottom in a plethora of stickers.

"It's nice to see you, too," Eva hummed, overjoyed to see her friend. "I just finished practicing, and I'm guessing you're not just moseying around with your viola on your back," Eva laughed.

"I thought it would be good to use a practice room, a change, you know?" Meg sang. "Maybe these practice rooms are magical and I'll be as good as you if I continually practice here!"

Eva laughed. If only Meg knew about the ghost lounging around. "Oh yeah, these rooms are _so_ magical," Eva drawled. "After sealing my deal with the devil, he allowed me to have some magic and get super good at violin."

Meg's eyes sparkled. "I guess I'll have to do that too!" She laughed. With a small flick of her arm, Meg moved her bangs out of her face. "Hey, are you busy tonight?"

"Busy?" Eva echoed. Her lips pursed into a fine line and she couldn't get violin out of her mind. Any other night would have been permissible, but Eva itched to scratch the surface of Yoongi's piece, or maybe it was his pressure of practicing that gnawed at her bones.

She finally decided that it would be okay to skip a long practice session - after all, she could lie and say that the piece was hard to learn. Any indication that Yoongi's piece produced trepidation would cause his ego to soar.

"Not really," Eva replied as Meg broke into a huge grin. "You're going to hit me for saying this, but really all I need to do is to practice... even more."

Eva was certain Meg's eyes had rolled so far back they had touched her brain. "But didn't you just practice?" Meg groaned. "I swear that violin is glued to your neck." She frowned for a moment before raising her eyebrows in an epiphany.

"Well, since my viola isn't glued to my neck, I need to practice. So how about you stay here a bit longer in a practice room and we'll leave in about an hour for something fun together?"

Eva's stomach flipped over. "I'm actually dying to go home. I think I'll practice there," she managed to choke out. In the corner of her eye, she could have sworn she saw the shadow of Yoongi peeking out through the wall. "Plus I kind of want a snack," Eva added to alleviate Meg's unconvinced face.

"Fine," Meg sighed. Her eyes rolled over Eva's violin case before swiveling up to Eva's eyes. "You know, you're such a workaholic," Meg whispered with sad eyes. "I'm all for practicing. I'm glad you have so much motivation. But you worry me sometimes."

Eva grimaced. "Hey, don't worry about me," Eva said, cocking her head at her friend. "No one ever said that being a musician would be easy."

"That's something I can definitely agree on," Meg laughed. "It's so sickening when people say that a major in music isn't _worth_ anything," she mocked, making quotations with her fingers. "Like, leave me alone. It's my life and it's what I want to do, it makes me happy, sorry that you have a boring desk job!"

Meg laughed to herself for a few moments while Eva smiled, the statement ringing true. "If only we were paid more," Eva added, to which Meg let out a huge groan.

"That's a fact," Meg sighed, kicking her feet against the tiled floor. "Hey, speaking of money," she added, "how about we spend some and we go to the movies for our fun thing tonight?"

Eva's eyebrows raised. "After you practice, right?"

"I guess," Meg sighed. "And you can head home to chill- wait, I mean practice," Meg corrected as her lip curled upward. "Sound good?"

Eva nodded. "Yeah. Sounds good, Meg. Get lots of good practice in."

Meg gave a grin and shrugged her shoulders. "Hit or miss, really."

"Try not to miss," Eva smirked, then readjusted her bag on her shoulder as a sign of wanting to leave. "Alright. I'll see you in about an hour outside of the main entrance."

Eva took her time walking home. It was nearing Halloween, and many of the stores she walked by were beginning to put up spooky decorations. Her lip curled upward when she passed by a candle shop where a worker was hanging up an advertisement for a ghost-themed candle.

As usual, and to Eva's relief, Adaline was not home. Eva grabbed a packet of peanut butter crackers and lounged on the large couch in the apartment, sighing deeply as she stretched her legs. She let her eyes close and mind wander with this short break, wondering what movie Meg was dragging her to this time. Her mind was blank, then the beautiful and haunting melody of Yoongi's new piece occupied her thoughts.

She'd get up in a few minutes, meet with Meg, and lock herself into a movie theatre, but Eva enjoyed having a phantom of the piece inside her mind while it lasted.


	12. ritenuto

**YOONGI'S** **PIECE** **WAS** quickly showing its true colors as a drainer of spirit and energy. After the movie, Eva had gotten back to the dorm. Meg, as if she was trying to perpetuate Eva's nightmares, had selected a horror movie, and the strange, foul-smelling, long-limbed, human-devouring creatures refused to leave her mind. Consequently, Eva didn't get to bed until midnight.

The late night didn't help with her early morning, either. Eva managed to drag herself out of bed and shove cereal into her mouth, but she was already walking out of her apartment by the time she realized she had not taken her violin to her violin lesson. Eva sprinted back inside to retrieve it. She wondered, as she tripped over a couch leg and bruised her knee, why angels had decided to curse her today.

It was through the will of demons Eva made it to the practice room on time, though Yoongi was more than delighted to prolong her subpar day.

Yoongi was firm, always firm, but with his own piece he cracked down harder than Eva was prepared to face. By the time Yoongi had finished tossing Eva around like a rag doll, the pads of her fingers bore indentations of the strings, and all she wanted to do was to collapse at home and nap.

"Practice," Yoongi had hissed, lying on the piano like an elongated slinky. "Practice until your fingers fall off. Then you'll know that you've practiced enough." He wiggled his left hand, being sure to remind Eva that he had two fewer fingers than she did.

So against every fiber of her being, Eva got her violin out to practice. Her fingers began to ache when she picked up her violin and Eva knew this was going to be a very, very long haul.

As Eva sawed at her violin, the many voices screaming at her to stop were overpowered by a lone, distinct voice: _"no one said success would be easy."_ The voice wasn't quite Yoongi's or even her own, yet it had the same coercion as his voice. That voice reminded Eva of her lifelong dream of becoming a dazzling star on stage with her violin. Yoongi's piece was the link to that wondrous reality, but the bridge was rickety.

Eva's fingers screamed with agony and threatened to fall off, and a final thought coerced her to push through that day, the next day, and the next few months.

If Eva was to fail Yoongi's piece, Yoongi would be more than thrilled to kill any dream of Eva's to play violin professionally.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

_four months later_

**THE MONTHS WERE** **LONGER** , or maybe it was an illusion. Halloween candy turned into chocolate boxes, though the brisk weather of October remained intact in February. Through some kind of miracle, Eva's fingers hadn't fallen off and she was finally the master of Yoongi's piece.

Eva stood in front of a long mirror in her room, adjusting a black baseball cap to fit with her brown ponytail. Jimin had begged her to abandon violin for the first time in months and join him on a trip to the mall, and she had sorely succumbed to his pleas. Why he wanted to take her to the mall exactly, Eva was not sure why, but as she flew down the stairs of her apartment to meet him, Eva couldn't wait to see his smile in real life again.

Like an old friend, Jimin's blue car greeted her as she stepped out into the cold. In the driver's seat, Jimin gasped and waved like he was an eager auntie of Eva's. "Finally!" Jimin cried as Eva slid into the seat next to him. "I thought I'd _never_ see you again," he continued, pulling away as soon as Eva shut her door. "That violin friend of yours was taking up so much time, I had to look on your Instagram to remember what you looked like!"

"Nice to see you too, Jimin," Eva grinned. "But I think the violin had the right to keep me locked in its clutches." Eva leaned over and turned the radio to a classical station.

Jimin shrieked. "No classical," he murmured, then changed the radio station as smoothly as he changed lanes on the road. "We can't sing to it!" Jimin added on when he saw Eva shake her head, though they both knew that wasn't the reason why the channel was changed. Eva turned her attention to the window to watch the sky, but began to smile when she realized what song Jimin had found to sing along with.

 _"Mama,"_ Jimin belted with Freddie Mercury, _"just killed a man."_ Eva began to sway her arms as Jimin sang the next verse, his soft and high voice juxtaposing the dark lyrics.

"You know," Eva called over the music as Jimin finished ranting about _mama_ , "you sing really beautifully."

"Do I?" Jimin grinned. A shimmer of mischief crossed his eye, and he began singing like his throat had just been eroded with sandpaper. Eva cringed and covered her ears.

"Jimin!" Eva cried, laughing. "Okay, shut up now!" Amidst the cacophony of noise, Eva heard Jimin laugh and change the radio station to something different. She opened her eyes to find Jimin exchanging her a lopsided grin.

"This is why you're a dancer," Eva teased, unashamed and unafraid to say it. Jimin tapped his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the music as he made a turn.

"And you could do better?"

Eva flopped back onto her seat, smiling sheepishly. He had a point, and it brought back memories of when Eva was a little girl in an elementary school with tiny brown pigtails and a voice that was as unrefined as a cowboy at a country club. She could hardly sing in choir class without shattering someone's eardrums.

"Whatever," Eva groaned, folding her arms onto her chest. It was no fun teasing Jimin when he was already two steps ahead.

For the remainder of the car ride, Eva hummed a tune and let her thoughts float with the clouds in the air. She heaved a sigh and stretched her legs, and realized at that moment how truly _tired_ she was when her muscles moaned in appreciation.

She turned her head towards the driver's seat and was immensely grateful that Jimin finally convinced her to relax and take a few hours off of violin. "Thanks, Jimin," Eva muttered. "I guess I can get carried away with how much work I do. It's nice to be with you and enjoy some time off." Jimin didn't turn his head, but his lip curled up slightly in affirmation that he heard.

"If you hadn't come," Jimin said as he turned into the mall parking lot, "I would have dragged you here anyway. I have something special planned."

Eva's eyebrows raised. "You don't just want to go clothes shopping?" She drawled.

"Not quite," Jimin hummed and snaked the car into a parking space. He stepped out of the car, his golden hair being picked up by the wind like fairies were lifting strands of it. Jimin blinked for a moment, then curved his hand to Eva in a motion to follow. Eva exited the car, her foot making a leaf crunch viciously on the ground.

"Where could you possibly be taking me?" Eva groaned, her slight annoyance heightened by the cold biting on her cheeks. She was certain Jimin was taking her someplace interesting, but her curiosity couldn't help but be a front-runner in this adventure. "The food court?"

Jimin laughed, stepping up onto the curb. He ran forward, grabbing the door and holding it for Eva. "No," he chuckled. "Keep thinking. What's a place that's unique in malls?"

Jimin followed behind Eva into the gigantic and glamorous mall. Around them, white marble served as walls and a ceiling. A grand chandelier welcomed them by sparkling in silver. Parents pushing small children in strollers heaved their many bags with them and groups of teens flocked and fraternized inside popular stores. The ubiquitous scent of what Eva could faintly smell was pizza and greasy noodles, and her stomach growled in appreciation.

Eva loved all bits of the mall, though not for their extravagant stores and extroverted workers. The mall housed enough bits of infinitesimal chaos that turned out to be strangely endearing. It reminded her of an ocean. People flowed through the halls like schools of fish, the number of stores seemed endless, and the constant absence of time that allowed people to get lost in their wanderlust was always prevalent.

Jimin glided beside Eva, slipping his hand into hers and softly rubbing her thumb with his. "Our destination is this way."

Eva was pulled by Jimin who seemed to know the mall like the back of his hand. He slithered around crowds and Eva had to walk quickly to follow, her feet barely staying with the pace of her boyfriend.

"Why so fast?" Eva cried after she almost faceplanted into the floor. Jimin turned and met her with a look of surprise. His warm eyes met hers and he slowed down.

"Sorry, I'm just really excited," Jimin whispered like his business of being in the mall was to perform a grand theft. He gave a sparkly grin before swerving away from a running toddler. "And I'm sure you will be too when you see where we're going."

Eva opened her mouth, curiosity threatening to rip out her insides. "Someone's certainly hyping it up."

Jimin only laughed but said nothing.

They meandered for what felt like such a long time that Eva could swear they had passed the same stores before. She sighed, her eyes traveling around the mall until they landed on a Build-A-Bear shop.

"Hey, I loved Build-A-Bear when I was younger!" Eva laughed. "There was a stuffed dog that I slept with for years that I got from there. His name was Bean."

A smile crept up onto Jimin's lips. "Well, prepare to be little Eva again. This is exactly our destination."

Eva's eyes grew the size of apples. "Jimin, no, you're kidding. That's too cute."

"Would I lie?" Jimin grinned, his head tilting to the side. "You'll see why I wanted to come here when we're actually inside and making our stuffed animals."

As they walked in, they passed a group of rambunctious children walking out, giggling and waving their new stuffed animals in the air. Once they were in the store, it was clear that Eva and Jimin were the oldest customers besides the parents that tagged along with their kids.

"Pick out a bear," Jimin said as he sauntered over to the large bins of different animals. "Or a dog. Or a cat." He precariously sifted through the choices before pulling out a white dog with black and brown patches. There was no stuffing in it, so it looked like a deflated balloon.

Eva grabbed a white cat, finding the sagging form of it amusing. "Imagine if Build-A-Bear just sold these," she said, shaking the white melted cat in her hands. "No stuffing."

"Build-A-Bear wouldn't be in business then," Jimin chuckled. He looked over at the line of kids waiting for their animal to be fluffed up by a worker. Based on the worker's expression and the rings under their eyes, they looked like they would rather trapeze off of a cliff than stuff any more animals.

"Cheery," Eva murmured and slid in line behind the children. Jimin joined her.

"Hey," Jimin whispered. "Look at the height difference between us and the kiddies." They both exchanged giggles. One kid looked so small and young that Eva could have been their mother.

"You may not look like a little kid, but you sure act like one," Eva whispered. "Ooh. They're getting another worker to stuff the animals."

The line of kids and kids at heart moved slowly but surely with the second worker contributing. Before she knew it, Eva's pathetic cat had been transformed into a plump and soft kitty.

"Would you like a voice message in your animal, um, ma'am?" A worker with wildly curly blonde hair asked her, his dead eyes pleading to release him from his job. Eva opened her mouth to decline when Jimin intervened.

"Yes, yes she would!" Jimin nodded vigorously. "One for both of us, actually. We're going to record something to put in the others' animal."

Jimin could have said he wanted to fill his dog with spiders then leave it in a children's room and Eva doubted the worker would have batted an eye. "Sure," he sighed, grabbing two small and circular objects from a bin and fiddled around with them before handing both to Jimin.

"Press that button to record," the worker sighed, "and then give it back to me when you're finished."

Jimin ogled the contraption before handing one off to Eva. "What are you going to say for my stuffed animal?" He grinned.

"I don't know!" Eva laughed. "You just sprung this on me." _You silly_ _doofus_ crossed her mind as a candidate, though she knew that wouldn't be the best sentence to memorialize in Jimin's stuffed dog. Eva looked over to see Jimin hunched over his recorder, saying something softly enough that she couldn't hear.

Eva turned her attention back to her own recording device. Infinite possibilities and paths flashed through her mind like electricity with metal. She liked the idea of something romantic- something that Jimin could wake up to and immediately feel amazing - though part of her still wanted to do something ridiculous and funny.

In an attempt to think of something, Eva's mind brought her back to the first few months of their relationship. Their love was not yet true love, but something more than soft kisses and sappy love notes. Eva remembered being so happy when she was with Jimin, and how happy he was with her. How they'd hold hands when walking and tell each other about their day like they had been married for years. Eva realized that Jimin had opened her up delicately and let her positive traits shine through. He complimented her as clouds do with a blue sky. And right then, Eva knew exactly what she was going to say.

Within minutes, their stuffed animals were sown up. They both decided not to dress up their animals, so they were promptly boxed up. "Let's get a bite to eat," Jimin hummed as they exited the store after paying. They meandered through the large mall and admired some stores before entering into the loud and chaotic food court. Jimin shimmied through a group of giggly girls to reach a pizza place.

"Oh, get me some pizza!" Eva rummaged through her pocket and pulled out a 20 dollar bill. She shoved it into his hands, and before he could protest, she said, "no. You paid for the stuffed animals. It's only fair I pay for dinner." She ran off and snagged a table before he could shoot the money back at her. He gave her a look as she slid into a seat, but went off to order the pizza.

A few minutes later, Jimin came back with four steaming pieces of sliced heaven and two drinks balanced on a tray. He set it down and Eva, with horror, saw the demonic yellow fruit on two of the slices.

"Oh my God," Eva choked, a tsunami-sized realization washing over her. "You like pineapple on pizza?"

Jimin dragged the pineapple pizza over to him. "You don't?"

"I actually have functioning taste buds," Eva said matter-of-factly and pulled the plain cheese slices over to her. She raised her eyebrows as she took a sip of her soda.

"Say what you want," Jimin grinned as he took a bite of his pizza, "the sweetness and tanginess from the pineapple is what makes it so great. I realize some people can't fathom how magnificent it is." Jimin took a sip of his soda. "Like you."

Eva wrinkled her nose but said nothing else. The two chewed on their pizza for a few moments in silence, save for the hundreds of people around them chattering up a storm. Jimin must have found their silence deafening, so he asked, "so, what piece have you been working on for these past few months?"

If time could stop, it would have at that moment. "A violin solo piece," Eva said slowly, hoping that information would suffice.

"Ooh," Jimin hummed, like Eva's answer was anything interesting. His head cocked to the side, and he reminded Eva of a puppy. "Who's the composer?"

Eva's stomach sunk all the way down to her feet. She knew that her face had to be showing some pink because she was aware of the heat that washed through her body and face. For a brief second, she was tempted to say another composer, Jimin wouldn't know, but went against it. A small voice told her that maybe it would be okay if Jimin at least knew Yoongi's name. She could share the weight of Yoongi with Jimin.

"He's not exactly Beethoven or Mozart, but you may know him," Eva said slowly watching Jimin's eyes closely. "Do you know Yoongi Min?"

Saying his name brought shivers down Eva's spine, but Jimin didn't seem to notice her discomfort. He smiled. "I do know him!" He laughed as Eva watched in disbelief. "My mom listens to his performances. She's especially fond of him because he's a Korean composer."

"Oh, neat!" Eva laughed, not sure if it was a true laugh. Eva decided to poke the bear a bit more. "Does she know he's dead?"

"Aren't they all?" Jimin laughed, then shook his head. "Kidding. But no, I didn't know that." Jimin took a sip of his drink and adjusted himself in his chair. "Though I'm sure he's quite proud of you that you're honoring one of his pieces by playing it."

A flash of Yoongi's crazed face while he flew around Eva screaming about musicality entered her mind. "Oh yeah. Definitely."

Jimin gave a small smile. "I'm also so proud of you. Your dedication is astounding. Maybe too astounding." He stacked his empty plates onto each other and wiped off the table a bit. "You don't have to go so hard all the time, Eva. You'll get exhausted."

Eva's heart warmed at Jimin's kind words. "I guess so," she laughed. "But," Eva added as she cleaned up her side of the table too, "I want to achieve my dreams, my musical dreams nonetheless. I _have_ to work hard to get them."

"But it's okay to relax," Jimin repeated, emphasizing 'relax'. His lip curled upward slightly. "Self-dedication. There's no use in trying to drive a car when there's no gas. You have to put in a little money to get gas and continue driving. And the same goes for you, Eva. You can't do any of your amazing dreams without taking a little time for yourself, or you'll wear yourself out." His lip blossomed into a full-blown smile and his eyes crinkled. "That's why I brought you here. To bring you back down to Earth. To remind you that you're still human and you need rest."

Eva stared at Jimin for a moment. Slowly, she smiled. "Well, you certainly called me out," she laughed. "Thank you." Eva looked back at him, taking in bits and pieces of him and weaving them together into her mind. She got lost in his dark eyes for a moment, and she was reminded that the eyes were the window to the soul. It struck her that never, in her time being with Yoongi, had she ever seen a soul locked in his intense and looming eyes. But Jimin's eyes brimmed with life and happiness, overflowing into her and making her feel all the fuzzies of the world.

It was because he was a ghost, she concluded. Yoongi had his chance to be a human, and now he had to live his death as the shell of a human. There was no way that he, his _being_ , his _entity_ , could ever understand the necessities of human life anymore.

She thought back to when Yoongi refused Eva's request to get food, and then looked down at her empty plate, full stomach, and smiling partner in front of her. She remembered when Yoongi bellowed at her to practice scales religiously, and then was reminded of a video call with Meg that same night that had lasted until three in the morning, violin untouched. And finally, she remembered Yoongi hissing at how Eva would never be good enough, and later in the apartment Adaline had bought her chocolate chip cookies and made soup to soothe Eva's blotchy, red face and upturned emotions.

And it was then that Eva realized the ringing truth in Jimin's words. She realized the love that the people in her life had for her. Eva realized it was okay to be human, and that was something a ghost could never understand.

By the time Eva and Jimin made their way back to the car, the sky had already been streaked black and a few stars gleamed in the darkness. Jimin turned on jazz music when he saw Eva lying her head on the back of her headrest, the saxophone making sleep so much more enticing. Jimin had to coerce her to get out of the car, though Eva was sure he wouldn't have minded to take her to his place.

Using her last bit of energy, Eva threw on her coziest pair of pajamas and flopped down on her soft bed. She would have fallen asleep right then, but the realization hit her that she had not yet listened to what Jimin had said in Eva's stuffed cat. Eva slid over and grabbed the cat before falling back into her bed. She threw her covers over her and let warmth tumble down her body, allowing the day's stresses to wash away.

 _Let's see what he said_ , Eva thought to herself, holding the cat upright before giving it a little squeeze, her thumbs right over the cat's heart.

There was a tiny blimp of noise, and then Jimin's bright voice came flowing out of the cat: _"Eva, you're brighter than a spotlight. I love you."_

Eva curled up with the cat, allowing his words to reverberate in her head. She yawned, stretching her legs before uttering one sentence before exhaustion took over her body and put her to sleep: _"I love you too."_


	13. accelerando

**THE DAY OF THE RECORDING** couldn't come fast enough. It was a relief that Eva could play Yoongi's piece, but that was only half of the battle. Recording and selling it was a whole other world, one that Eva had never had to explore before, so finding recording studios was not the easiest task.

And so, she felt elated to be finally standing in the recording studio. All of her hard work of coordinating with producers, calling studios, and arranging times and dates had paid off, and it was finally time to reap the rewards. Eva stood in a faintly illuminated recording studio surrounded by three windows. Through the windows, she could see the producers, who wore mics, and Meg, who gave her an encouraging smile.

"Alright Eva, would you play us a few notes so we can adjust the acoustics for you?" One of the producers asked. "A scale would be more than enough."

"Absolutely," Eva said back to them, placing her violin on her shoulder delicately. She had already played early in the morning as a warm up. Luckily, by the time Eva wanted to practice, Adaline was already out of the apartment. She could tell today was going to be a good playing day. The scale felt natural as her fingers glided up and down her violin, which was excellent because some days weren't as lucky.

Meg clapped lightly after Eva played a handful of scales. Eva gave her a small smile - she was grateful Meg had come to cheer her on, and on such short notice as well. Eva wasn't too nervous, but it felt good to have a team of people - or one person - on the sidelines for support. But what emotion Eva felt the most was relief.

Months of practicing with a persnickety ghost would soon be behind her. Young would always be her teacher, but it was relieving to be finished with his piece and move onto something else. Hopefully, he wouldn't tear out her soul for messing up a single precious note in the next one.

"Sounds good," another producer called through her mic. "Recording will start when that light turns red," she said, pointing to a sign that said 'ON AIR' in big black letters with a light next to it. "Feel free to begin whenever you'd like to."

Eva watched as the light suddenly flashed bright red, and a producer nodded at her. Taking a deep breath, Eva was suddenly aware of her shoes on the ground, and the weight of the violin perched on her shoulder. She shut her eyes; it was easier to concentrate on the music that way. When she shut her eyes, she felt she was alone and free from judgment. She began, hitting the first and second notes of the piece then the third, the fourth, and on, dancing through the notes gracefully.

Yoongi's violin sonata was nearly ten minutes, but with near-endless hours across years of playing the violin, Eva's endurance was unmatched, even if Yoongi's piece was one of the hardest pieces she had ever played. As the final note hung in the air, Eva slowly lowered her violin and let out a sigh. She felt calm and happy. She knew she would likely have to go through many more takes, but just having one finished was such a huge accomplishment.

The red recording light flashed off, and the producers across from her gave her smiles and thumbs up. "Nice job, especially for a first recording," one of them told her. "Your sound came through very clear. Though I think we could make your high notes sound less shrill..."

The producers chatted amongst themselves, giving Eva a bit of time to rest. She turned to Meg and gave her a smile. Meg, in turn, clapped and gave a large smile.

"I could hardly hear you," Meg called through the glass, "but you looked incredible!"

Eva mouthed a thank you, nodding her head graciously.

"Alright Eva, up for a second round?" A producer asked, directing Eva's attention from Meg.

Eva gave them a nod, and she locked her violin back in between her shoulder and jaw. Eva started again, phrasing certain parts differently, and lilting notes that she had not before. This was to give variety, as well as to honor Yoongi's intent as the composer. The last note rang out again, but this time it resonated with a haunting undertone.

The producers complimented her, then went back to talking amongst themselves. For everyone's comfort, Eva assumed they'd ask for her to play at least one more time. She took a few photos of the windowed room, both for memories and to waste time. Even though she hadn't thought it through, this recording - or any recording - was something she had always wanted to do. It was a defining moment of a musician's life, just like soloing with the London Symphony Orchestra would be.

"I think one more time will do it," a producer said, echoing Eva's thoughts.

Eva turned to look at Meg. She wondered vaguely how Meg managed her time - she always seemed to be hanging out with friends and cheering on everyone around her. Eva wondered why Meg was always so eager to give up her free time for someone - sometimes it seemed like anyone - else. Jimin came to support Eva whenever he could, but he had a class at the same time as Eva's recording and was unable to come. She knew Jimin was always there for her whether he was physically there or not, and she couldn't help but wonder why Meg felt the exact opposite.

She must have zoned out, because the producer's voice, asking "Eva?" nearly made her drop her violin.

"Sorry!" Eva laughed, dragging her head out of the clouds, and collecting her composure. As Eva skated her bow across the strings once more, she threw her soul into the piece, trying to math the passion Young must have felt as he wrote it. She tried to feel him through his work in a way she never had before. She feared only a shadow of the potency Young carried would flow into her playing, but even a shadow of it would be more than impressive.

Eva finished the last note the final time, and she almost squealed in excitement. "Yay!" Meg cried from behind the glass, the window unable to restrain her joy. Eva was finally free to walk out of the recording studio and meet up with her friend.

"Man," Meg began without preamble as Eva began to put her violin away in her case, "you never cease to amaze me. I always know you're good, but then I hear you play, see you play- absolutely unbelievable. You know, Eva, you reminded me of Hilary Hahn back there. You had the grace and poise and tenacity of a ninja. If I could only get my viola to sound half as good as that-"

"Thank you, Meg," Eva laughed, smiling fondly over her friend's chatter. "I certainly hope you get to record one day! The world always needs violas," she trailed off, then cracked a sly smile. "Or maybe they don't. We all know that violins are superior."

Meg gasped like she was shot in the leg. "I thought I trusted you!"

"You shouldn't trust me," Eva cackled. "I use your strings to floss my teeth every morning."

"That must explain why there's so much buildup on them."

Eva raised her eyebrows in shock, allowing Meg to seize this win. "Okay, let's calm down a little," Meg said, laughing. She twirled a piece of hair behind her ear. "We all know that violinists are a bit too hot up in-"

"Meg!" Eva sighed. "Can we go back to the praising again? Praising makes me happy."

The duo bantered when they left the recording studio, Eva stopping only briefly to thank the studio for accepting her as a client before going back to Meg and arguing whether or not a violin bow could be an instrument by itself or not. It was drafty when they stepped outside, the sun hiding behind a cloud foretelling that a rainstorm would greet them in open arms soon enough. Realizing they didn't have raincoats or umbrellas, Meg suggested that they seek shelter, so they meandered into a friendly-looking coffeeshop that advertised "the best bean cuisine."

Meg thought the slogan was promising enough, and they were not disappointed - Eva being the coffee skeptic, got a soothing Japanese black bean tea, while Meg had straight black coffee. Eva always thought it was intriguing how such a bubbly and bright person could have the ability to love dark coffee - not that personalities matched with coffee preferences - but it was strange nonetheless to never see Meg with a milk foam mustache.

Eva sipped her tea thoughtfully, taking in the coffee shop's minimalistic style. The shop had black walls with white trim and tables and slight red accents, which Eva slight retro vibes. The menu was written on a blackboard hanging from the wall. "So, how is Matthew doing?" Eva asked, referring to Meg's younger brother. Eva had so much contact with Meg that she already knew so much about her, and she was curious to hear about Meg's family.

"Matthew," Meg said, taking a scholarly sip of coffee, "is doing quite stupidly." She gave Eva a look that suggested shenanigans. "You know how he is. So incredibly smart and whatnot, and doing well in school. In computer science, no less!" She shook her head. "And yet still has the time to goof off and let his buffoonery shine. Just a few days ago my mom texted that he dumped dish soap into the university's main water fountain. Everything within a fifty-mile radius smelled like a unicorn burp, apparently."

"Sounds bubbly," Eva quipped.

Meg raised her eyebrows. "You think?" She sighed, taking a large sip of coffee. "This is at least the third prank he's done this semester. They're all harmless, of course, but it grinds my gears that he hasn't gotten into trouble for it. It's all because the deans love him and can't rack up the courage to call out dear Matthew Miguel."

Eva thought of the time Yoongi had turned on every metronome in the entire Jessop Center when she didn't play a piece of music fast enough for him. She could still hear the echoes of the clicking, like an army of robots marching to her to take her away. It had taken two days to find every metronome, some being in highly inconvenient places, like on a support beam suspended twenty feet in the air, or on the walkway above the stage for the lighting team. It was Yoongi's strange sense of humor, and to this day, no one could figure out how the metronomes had appeared.

"Oh yeah, remember that crazy time when a music student placed metronomes around the Jessop Center?" Eva asked, resurrecting the devil.

Meg nodded her head vigorously, stringing together forgotten memories. "Matthew has _nothing_ on them," she laughed. "I don't think I've ever seen Mr. Emory that perplexed, to this day. They were a genius, whoever they were."

Eva knew who the culprit was far too well. "Mr. Emory is definitely a calm guy. It was weird seeing him fret over the whole fiasco," she said, taking a sip of her tea. "Speaking of Mr. Emory, how's the new symphony music going for you?"

Meg's face fell for the first time since they had started talking. "Actually, not that great," she muttered. "Tchaikovsky? And the fifth symphony? Yikes," Meg mulled. "There are a couple of areas that make me want to break my viola over my knee in the practice room."

Eva grinned a bit, knowing exactly the feeling. "I'm sure you'll get it at some point," she encouraged. "It's the spiccato part, isn't it?"

Meg looked like she was about to strangle her. "Yes!" She sighed. "That's just one of many parts that are so incredibly difficult. I just wish I had more time to practice. I feel like I'm going through life at a million miles an hour."

That comment Meg made was peculiar, and it threw off Eva. "More time?" Eva echoed, feeling the words as she spoke them. "Meg, no offense, but you just drove forty-five minutes to cheer me on for a recording, and then watched me play for another hour." Her friend looked dismayed, so Eva quickly changed her tone. "You could have said no. It's lovely having you with me, but if you're stressed out about music, I think you would have felt better not coming to this and practicing instead. I wouldn't have minded, in fact, I would have understood."

"No, I wanted to cheer you on," Meg whispered, wringing her hands together. "It's important to me to see you happy and make sure you know you have encouragement."

Eva's mind was whirling now. "I already know you're one of my biggest supporters, Meg," she murmured. "And I know you care so much about my wellbeing. But you shouldn't have to sacrifice time for yourself for me. It's important for _me_ to see you comfortable in your life and not feeling busy and rushed all the time."

Eva thought that was a bit hypocritical of her to say that - being chained to her violin didn't allow her much free time - but it seemed to ripple and tear Meg's sad reverie.

"It's just that I don't want to disappoint or let anyone down," Meg sighed, and Eva was stricken with surprise. Even being friends with Meg for years, she had never realized her friend felt like this.

"I love being with people," Meg explained, though Eva knew at least that. Meg was the definition of life at a party. "And I love that people are happy when they are with me. But I feel like if I turn someone down, or say no, they'll think I don't like them anymore." Meg smiled sadly. "And to me, it's easier to deal with the extra stress and give myself less time to do things than it is to be paralyzed by the constant fear of judgment or dislike from other people."

Eva's stomach tightened, and her mind wandered back to the time Meg had suggested that the orchestra go out to dinner together to bond and enjoy each other outside of practice. Even Greg was invited. Eva didn't remember much about the dinner itself, but she remembered the feeling of camaraderie and happiness she had walking out of the restaurant. It shattered her heart to think Meg had been using that as a way to alleviate her feeling of exclusion.

"Meg," Eva said softly, pushing her tea to the side and holding out her hands. Meg held out her hands - already knowing what Eva wanted to do - and allowed her friend to grip them gently. Eva rubbed Meg's hands, her calloused fingertips rough against her own. "I know what I say won't be an immediate switch for you," she continued, staring at Meg with concern, "but you don't have to please everyone, and I guarantee no one will hate you if you say no to an invite. It's important to have time for yourself to relax instead of getting involved in everyone else's lives. You'll never get to achieve what you want in your own life if you set others' priorities over your own."

Meg smiled softly. "Thank you," she whispered. "That means a lot. It really does. But it's so hard to break out of this mindset." She gently took her hands away from Eva and patted down her hair. "I guess I understand that it's okay to say no every once in a while, but Eva, if I constantly reject people, they won't want to invite me to things. They won't want to hang out with me because they'll think I'm flaky."

Eva bit her lip, choosing her words carefully. "If someone really believes that," Eva said slowly, "then they don't seem like real friends. Friends don't expect other friends to drop everything and hang out with them. Friends know that their bond won't break even if they don't hang out often. Meg," Eva said softly, "have you ever thought that these people might be taking advantage of you and your time?"

"How could someone take advantage of my presence?" Meg pondered. "That seems impossible."

Eva thought long and hard about how to phrase this. "Do you remember doing group projects in high school?" She finally said. When Meg nodded, she continued. "It's sort of like that. Imagine you have a certain amount of time dedicated to working on something, just like you have a certain amount of hours set to practice, do yoga, or hang out with friends in order to keep your life balanced.

"But someone in the group unfairly shoves work on you that should have been theirs. In this case, some people may invite you to their parties knowing that you're fun to be around and won't say no. They have little consideration for you and the life you have outside of socialization. They just care about themselves and making sure that they're socially adept, or in a group project's case, that there's an A in the grade book."

Meg's eyes shined for a moment, and something clicked inside them. "Oh, you're so right," she wailed, burying her face into her hands. "But it's so hard to say _no-_ "

"I know, Eva said softly. "Maybe start off by rejecting small things? Or buying things for yourself to use to distract yourself? Face masks usually aren't that pricy."

"But they're just distractions," Meg complained. "That won't stop my behaviors."

"You could say that hanging out with people is a distraction from your feelings," Eva said softly. "I know that you can't change your behavior on the dime, but little steps go a long way." Eva stood up from the table and gave a small smile to her friend. "Let's leave early and go to the store. I think there are some arts and crafts calling your name."

Meg glanced at the table, her hands, and her coffee mug, then stood up. "I guess you're right," she said, giving Eva a smile.

Eva breezed through a grocery store with Meg trailing behind, grabbing items that looked comforting until they had amassed a small cartful of rainy day items. Meg pulled out a coloring book from the mountain of items. "Why a coloring book?" She gawked. "Eva, you do realize that I barely know the difference between a marker and a colored pencil?"

"I read online that coloring relieves stress," Eva explained. "It can give your hands something to do if you're really bored out of your mind. You can also release your inner child." Meg stared at the book for a moment, and a tiny smile appeared. She placed it back into the cart and began to help Eva search for a few more items.

Eventually, their items were bagged and in Eva's car and the two of them could go home. "You know, I'm really excited that I have all of this stuff to do when I get home," Meg quipped when Eva pulled out of the parking lot. "I really needed this. So, thank you, Eva."

"It's no problem," Eva said softly. As she turned onto the highway, Eva turned on the radio to a pop station, to which Meg began humming. "Everyone needs a day like this. And we can finish it with this music!"

For almost an hour, Meg and Eva belted out their stress until Eva reached Meg's apartment and dropped her off. After saying their goodbyes, Eva drove to her own apartment. The sky was a saturated, bright orange when she got out of her car, and Eva decided to take the rest of the day for herself like Meg was doing as she took her violin out of the backseat. "Or maybe," she said to no one in particular as she grabbed her violin and went up the stairs to her apartment, "I can somehow convince Adaline to play chess with me."

 _Or,_ Eva thought to herself, _you should practice just a bit more. You don't know what Yoongi's going to throw at you next._ Startled by this intrusive thought, Eva stopped on a stair and leaned against the wall of the staircase. She didn't understand how or why she was thinking like this, but she felt her heart race as she tried to focus on relaxing as planned.

Eva felt taunted by her violin as she walked into her apartment. She had barely set the case on the floor before the thoughts became too much. To appease them, she took her violin out and prepared to play. _Why is it,_ Eva thought miserably as she tightened her bow, _that I can give advice to Meg, but never follow that advice myself?_

The violin occupied the rest of her night, as it almost always did, and in sleep, Yoongi's voice was the haunting melody that kept close watch of her while she slept.


	14. duramente

_Hello Ms. Eva Romanov,_

Good morning, and happy Saturday. My name is Joanna Erikson, former violin professor at Alexandria University and conductor of the Alexandria Symphony Orchestra. I have heard you are both an alumni from Alexandria and _concertmistress_ _in the orchestra - congratulations on your achievements! I'm sure your teacher and Mr. Emory are very proud of you. I have contacted you after listening to your recording of Min's Violin Sonata in E minor and am thoroughly impressed with your musicality and execution. Violinist to violinist, I'd love to chat with you in person at some point, as I am in the area for the next week for a string teacher conference. Much has changed since I have last lived here, and I'd love to hear suggestions as to where we could meet up if you had any. I look forward to being in contact with you!_

_Sincerely,_

_Dr. Joanna Erikson,_ _DME_ _at The Eastman School of Music_

 **A WEEK HAD HARDLY** passed since Eva's recording of Yoongi's piece had been released, and she was shocked that someone was already interested in her. She had spent the first few days after the release typing her name into music apps and being shocked when it showed up. Eva had nearly fainted when she saw CDs of her recording being sold at her local grocery store. She had been elated to see there was one missing from the shelf of neatly arranged ones, only to find that the buyer of the missing one was Jimin. Publicity, no matter how little it was, was hauntingly surreal, and an email from a woman of such high renown did not help to curb the feeling.

Eva responded to Joanna and told her of a local restaurant they could eat at, then went on a frenzied internet search to learn more about her. Eva knew that someone from a school as prestigious as Eastman would have some incredible credentials.

She wasn't disappointed. Besides what she mentioned in her email, Joanna had created a program that allowed elementary schools easier access to musical instruments for their music programs, regularly taught masterclasses at local performing arts schools, and entertained the elderly in nursing homes.

Adaline walked out of her room, already dressed, even though it was nine in the morning on a weekend. She grabbed an apple off the counter and leaned over Eva as she took a bite. "Someone's typing quickly."

Usually, Adaline wasn't one to pry, but for once Eva was excited to talk to her. Adaline would understand the excitement.

"I'm looking up someone!" Eva said while she clicked on a site. "I mean, I'm searching for information about this woman." The screen flashed to the familiar website of The Jessop Center, and when Eva scrolled down she was brought to an older picture of a woman with long brown hair and a firm smile. "This woman, Joanna Erikson, is a former conductor of the Alexandria Symphony. She heard my recording of Min's piece, and now she wants to meet with me!"

Adaline studied Joanna's photo, then hummed. "From Eastman, too? That's pretty impressive." She balanced her apple on her palm, thinking thoughtfully. "Oh! It's also very impressive you caught her attention." For the first time in a long time, Eva swore she saw a sparkle of respect in Adaline's eyes. "I'm proud of you. That's really incredible."

"I'm gonna meet her in about two hours over in Patty's Patties," Eva said, closing out of the website and shutting her computer. "I should get dressed."

"Why? I'm sure Ms. Erikson would be _enthralled_ by your cookie monster pajama pants," Adaline smiled, then shrugged on a tote bag. Eva wondered where Adaline could be going so early on the weekend.

"Peak fashion," Eva laughed. "See you later! And, uh, have fun, wherever you're going."

"Enjoy your time with the Eastman graduate," Adaline smiled and shut their apartment door behind her.

Eva scuffled out of her seat and went into her room. There was a tiny window in her room, only a few feet tall and wide, and she peeked through it. She watched Adaline stride down their block, making her way closer to The Jessop Center. Despite being roommates for two years, Eva didn't know much about Adaline because she was so quiet.

Adaline knew about Jimin and Meg. Adaline was the ear that listened to Eva rant about pieces. It was also the ear that listened to her joyously talk about music that made her heart sing. Adaline knew Eva spent most of her time at the Jessop Center. But Eva knew next to nothing about her.

Eva fantasized about Adaline's unknown life while she threw on a pair of dress pants. Did she have a secret lover? It was humorous to imagine Adaline in a passionate and forbidden relationship. Adaline would never break a rule for love, or for anything.

And what was it about Adaline today that made her so chipper? Neither of them interacted much. It was so unlike her to actually take interest in anything Eva did. Eva knew Adaline was in graduate school, so she put her thoughts to rest by deciding Adaline's mood had been uplifted by a good grade.

Eva had some time before her lunch with Mrs. Erikson, so she pondered what to do until then. Almost like it knew, Eva's violin sang to let her know of its presence. She was planning on practicing later in the day and ignoring Yoongi (having lessons with him every day was exhausting and pointless), but she couldn't help but feel guilty. Why waste an hour?

 _I'll just do some warm-ups_ _,_ Eva thought to herself, and then the violin was in her hands.

Time flew by, and Eva almost missed her time to go. Eva threw her violin into its case, grabbed her wallet and keys, and headed out to meet Mrs. Erikson.

 _What could she want from me?_ Eva thought to herself as she clambered down the steps of her apartment and waved at a few neighbors. Of course Mrs. Erikson was interested in her recording, but what could she do other than congratulate her? As far as Eva knew, Mrs. Erikson was not someone that could promote her. She was just a woman that dedicated her life to music.

 _Though perhaps,_ Eva thought, watching a dog on a leash bark at a stick on the sidewalk, _that's just all it is._ Maybe Mrs. Erikson liked to show appreciation through kind and grand gestures. Maybe she'd give Eva a fancy car after their meeting. Eva entertained that idea more than she should have.

Nearing Patty's Patties, Eva realized, with a jolt, that she had no idea if Mrs. Erikson had already arrived. Was she expecting her to reserve a table? Had she already reserved one? To Eva's chagrin, her palms began to sweat. She should have planned better.

After peeking through the windows of the restaurant for a sign of Mrs. Erikson (and seeing nothing of interest other than a baby that didn't take her eyes off of her), Eva resolved to sit on a bench outside. It was nice out, so at least Eva could enjoy some nice weather with her anxiety. At least there was something positive about Eva's lack of control.

An older woman sat next to her while Eva did her best to calm down her nervous excitement. The sun seemed to beat down extra bright, not helping Eva to spot out Mrs. Erikson.

Someone tapped her shoulder, and Eva nearly screamed. It was the older woman that had sat down just a moment ago.

"Ma'am, are you Eva?" The woman asked, and it dawned on Eva that the woman she was looking for was right beside her all along.

Eva didn't know what she was expecting, but the photos online of Mrs. Erikson were undoubtedly from younger years. White hair curled around her ears that echoed of a hairstyle from years past. Eva felt a pang of sadness in seeing the slight tremor of her hands. She could not play violin anymore.

"Yes!" Eva nodded. "And you're Mrs. Erikson?"

"Indeed," Mrs. Erikson nodded and stood up much faster from the bench than Eva could have fathomed. Mrs. Erikson gave a smile to her, and Eva saw more to her through her expression than she had seen through her physical figure.

Despite her wrinkles, Mrs. Erikson seemed to have a depth that was not visible at first glance. Eva put a name to this depth: it was spitfire. Her eyes shone and seemed to carry many memories of love, loss, and emotions Eva could never comprehend.

Eva stood up and brought her through the burger restaurant. She seemed to wobble but held her own with walking. Once seated and drinks were ordered, Mrs. Erikson gave a wonderful smile. "I first heard you on a classical radio," she started, skipping past small talk. Eva was grateful for that. "And I'm so glad I was able to meet you so quickly. I live up in Maine, so I would never have been to meet you otherwise."

"Thank you for thinking of me!" Eva smiled. "How is Maine?"

"Trees," said Mrs. Erikson, her voice surprisingly deadpan. "Lots and lots of forestry and quiet." Her mouth curled upward. "Not nearly as loud and modern as it is here." It made sense to say that, as the Jessop Center was just a few miles south of DC. "In fact, I practically live in the woods. Our neighbors are at least a mile away. My husband says our true neighbors are the squirrels."

"I can't imagine how silent it must be," Eva commented. "If it isn't the cars outside keeping me up, it's my neighbors on the floor above my apartment. Or it's my roomie, who seems to play piano so much that it's a lifeline for her."

"For some people, music truly is a lifeline." As a waiter came upon them to put down their drinks and take their orders, Eva eyed her guest with suspicion. Perhaps old ladies just liked to eat out and talk about nonsense. Perhaps this was Mrs. Erikson's way of avoiding boredom. Maine had to be mundane at points. But something about their encounter made Eva feel off. There always had to be a reason for flattery, a reason for interest. What was it?

"As I was saying," Mrs. Erikson quipped as the waiter walked away, "never underestimate the power of music. Music has been known to save people from the brink of death. It is used to heal trauma." She promptly took a sip of her water and eyed Eva.

"Why music?" She asked Eva. "No doubt, your parents couldn't help but feel disappointed when you decided you wanted to play fiddle for the rest of your life. It brings happiness, but doesn't always pay bills."

Eva would have gasped if she wasn't so acutely aware of how she acted in front of a new person. She always thought that talking about a students' family life was too personal. And yet, Eva found herself talking.

"I _love_ playing," Eva said truthfully. "And, I couldn't see myself doing anything else. Other people said they imagined themselves building rockets and studying cells. Others wanted to learn new languages and travel the world. I wanted to stand on a stage with my violin in front of an audience and send trembles down their spine with my music."

That twinkle Eva had seen earlier in Mrs. Erikson's eyes twitched, and Eva feared she had said the wrong thing.

Instead, Mrs. Erikson laughed. "You remind me too well of an old student of mine," she sighed. "So much passion for music. But that's just what music does to us. I certainly don't remember the doctor that treated me just last week. But I do remember the feeling of when he made my feet feel better. Musicians are just that. We are heart menders and escape artists in our audiences' hearts. We open up emotions they never knew they had. It's a shame that the world doesn't respect it, because not many of us can do that."

"Oh," Eva managed to say in response, more gifted in music than words. "Wow. That's beautiful. That's exactly how I feel. And you put it into words."

"That is the power of music when you have been around it for decades," Mrs. Erikson said. She seemed to just realize her hamburger was in front of her and took a few moments to eat. Eva took the time as well.

The nagging voice saying that something was wrong was back in her head. She didn't know what to think of Mrs. Erikson. She didn't feel she was worthy to be in such a presence of a musical genius. Why was Mrs. Erikson allowing this time with her?

It wasn't until Eva was halfway done with her meal that Mrs. Erikson spoke again. "I am quite curious," she said, wiping her fingers with a napkin, "how did you end up with this music? I know Min is contemporary, but how did you happen to find a hidden piece of his?"

The nagging voice set off an alarm in Eva's body. Every part of her body was on alert, and Eva suddenly felt so sick that she could feel her throat trying to swallow itself. She didn't know how to explain that a ghost had shown her a secret flap from a private journal of his before he died. She didn't know how to explain she had discovered the journal shoved between two pieces of the piano in a practice room.

She had never been in a situation where she had to truly talk about her lessons. Jimin didn't know enough to ask. Adaline was too focused on other matters to care. Meg had never thought about it. And now, Mrs. Erikson wanted to hear about her musical journey. It was something that even a beginning string player could answer. Eva hid her hands underneath the table to hide their shaking. How had she never thought of this?

"Um," Eva said intelligently, trying to piece together a fake story in seconds that would make sense. "Well, Min used to live nearby the Jessop Center. He used to play there, too. You probably already knew that." Mrs. Erikson nodded her head in affirmation.

"Well," Eva said, wiping her hands on her pants, "he must have left some stuff of his there in the practice rooms. And he couldn't collect it because, well, he died. The music was wedged into a tight spot behind the piano. I almost ripped the paper because it was so old. It was handwritten, too. I guess the custodians or piano maintenance people never saw it."

Mrs. Erikson nodded sagely, and Eva almost relaxed. She had, somehow, bought her story. The story was truthful, so perhaps that's why it was convincing.

"Fascinating," Mrs. Erikson said, giving a small smile. "It's like you found a little piece of his heart in there. You wouldn't be the first to find unpublished music by dead composers." She sat back in her chair, taking another sip of her water. Eva took the time to take a sip of her drink too.

"I have more questions," Mrs. Erikson said without prelude. She folded her hands into her lap promptly.

"Have you been having relations with his ghost?"

Eva thought that when people spit drinks back into their cups in movies, they were just being dramatic. Eva found, doing the very act herself, this was not a dramatic act in the slightest, but an act done out of protection and instinct.

"Pardon?" Eva gaped at Mrs. Erikson, trying to keep a sensible and straight face knowing that her face was doing neither of those things. This is what the nagging voice was holding back from her.

"Yoongi Min's ghost," Mrs. Erikson said pleasantly and normally, as if she was enjoying watching Eva melt from the inside out.

"How-" Eva managed to stammer out. She looked around the restaurant wildly, extremely aware of the miniscule side glances people always made at each other in public places. Yoongi had always been her little secret. Her insane, supernatural, and deranged secret. And now this woman wanted to converse about it.

Eva couldn't find the words to talk about Yoongi publicly. He wasn't something that was supposed to be public. She didn't realize how much Yoongi was only in her personal world, hidden from the outside world. He was comfortable there. It felt sacreligious to speak him into existence.

Blood pumped in Eva's ears. _How did she know?_

"My dear, you look like you've seen a ghost," Mrs. Erikson said. Her face softened. "And rightfully so. However, I'm here to tell you I've seen him too. I wanted to talk to you because we both, at some point, have been entangled with Min. I was able to escape. You are still around him."

 _Escape_. Mrs. Erikson said that word with so much conviction it sent shivers down through Eva's bones. Eva could only nod wordlessly.

Mrs. Erikson, thankfully, understood Eva's shock and took the reigns of the conversation. "You undoubtedly have many questions for me. I'm sure you weren't prepared for this conversation, either. And that's okay. We're here to talk about this special ghost together." Mrs. Erikson sat back, preparing for a monologue.

"I first met Yoongi years and years ago. I would have just been in my 30s. Yoongi barely had started puberty. His arms and legs were too long for his body, and his hair constantly was in disarray. He was just a child, but he could play violin like he had been playing for centuries. He was a phenom. And I, who recently had completed my Doctoral of Music at Eastman, was tasked to teach this gem of a boy. To say I was excited was an understatement. To say he was excited was an understatement. He was my pride and joy from the first lesson to our estrangement."

Mrs. Erikson sighed. "I don't know what I did wrong. The first few years were spectacular. I watched Yoongi's growth in violin at the same time I watched his physical growth. He grew up to be so handsome. He grew into playing on a stage with an audience. And when his career began to take off, he announced numerous times to audiences that I was the reason. I was his trophy to carry around, as he was for me. He felt I was integral to his success. I felt love and pride for him that was just as strong for my own children. I had molded him to the shape he wanted to be. It was more than love. It was perfect. And that's why we failed.

"You must know a shred of the rest of the story. Within only a few months, Yoongi went from a gentle, loving, and humble violinist to a tyrant of sorts. He would stand on the stage after a performance and act like the audience owed him something for simply being in his presence. I couldn't believe what had happened. I didn't know what had happened. Perhaps this is the dark side of fame that us normal people will never understand. Worst of all," Mrs. Erikson shook, "he _knew_ he had changed. He _knew_ he was arrogant and horrible and cruel. But I don't think he could ever accept that someone as great as him could grow to be so malignant. So he blamed me for his transformation.

"He said I was too good of a teacher for him, that the confidence I had given him to play his beautiful violin had been untethered and unchecked. I was to blame for his own arrogance. It was my fault that his self-assurance had turned into vaulting ambition. As if I was in charge of his own emotions.

"I was angry at him. Angry at myself. I cut myself off from him, refusing to give lessons to him as if I could make him any better. Though it was all too late. He was extraordinary. All I could do was watch the monster I had fostered take over the entire classical world. Yet, when he died, I wept for weeks. I was a mess. Later, I was able to identify that I wept for the kind boy who would have given up his life for music. I did not weep for the monster. But who knew the monster would have given up death for music, too?

"Yoongi was eager to show himself to me as a ghost. He had that evil glimmer in his eyes when he floated up to me. Not even through death could he cease to exist, and he was proud of it. I wasn't even surprised. I saw his ghostly form and was not frightened. Of course an impossible monster such as Yoongi could be something that was also seemingly impossible in this world.

"But I feared for others. At first, I believed he was the type of ghost that seemed nothing more than a memory. But then, right as I was about to leave, he burst a pipe that was right above my head. He had some kind of control over the Jessop Center, a control I realized he could use to hurt people. It couldn't have been a coincidence, because the pipes had just been fixed a week prior. While water soaked the carpets and my clothes, he laughed at my shock and misery. So, I ran. I ran out of the Jessop Center while people watched me looking like a freak, and he followed maliciously like the demon he was.

"I learned he couldn't leave the Jessop Center. He floated outside a window, sneering at me as I bolted out into the parking lot. I was so afraid of the monster that I had created. I felt powerless." Mrs. Erikson shifted in her seat, her breaths uneven. "I haven't stepped foot in that center since then because of him. I don't plan on ever doing it again.

"But I still cared for the Center. I had to make sure he never caused trouble. I had Jessop Center newspapers delivered to me far up to my new house in Maine to make sure no one suddenly disappeared or there was nothing suspicious in the local news. When the internet came along, I followed the news there too. Nothing of importance ever came up. I believed he had somehow been ridden from the building. Someone had hired Ghost Busters. I could stop being so paranoid. But that all changed when I heard you on my classical radio station.

"I feared for you the moment I heard the piece. Yoongi had written it during the final few lessons I had with him, but was saving it for the right time to release into the world. I knew it existed because he had played it for me once. He asked me to give suggestions. There was no other explanation for how you got the music, I knew Yoongi was up to something. He had been biding his time, earning your trust."

Mrs. Erikson had been talking into her plate, her eyes avoiding Eva. She looked up and made direct eye contact with Eva, sending shivers down her spine. "So, Eva, if you learn nothing else from this, understand you need to get away from him immediately," the old woman said with potency. "Nothing good will come out of this. I don't know how long you've known him, but I don't think it matters. Get away from him, because he cares nothing of your life. He only cares for himself and is using you to promote his music. Now that he has caught my attention by going public through you, I am petrified for what he plans to do next. He's growing more confident with his plans through you. Leave him while you can before you and the people around you get hurt."

The waiter must have realized this was the absolute worst time to interrupt because he appeared right as Eva was about to comment. After Mrs. Erikson shooed him away with a few words of thanks, Eva felt ready to speak.

"Why?" Eva asked, her voice trembling. Her mind was still processing everything Mrs. Erikson had said, from her being Yoongi's teacher to her absolute fear of him and what he could do. "Why are you telling me this?"

Mrs. Erikson stared her down. "I care for people's safety," she said softly. "And I know that how he acted with me must be multiplied tenfold with you. He is a volcano ready to erupt, and I fear you will be caught in the debris. He was always ambitious and not afraid of hard work, even when he was young, and I'm sure he is still the same. Whatever he wants, he will get it, and it does not matter how he gets there."

Mrs. Erikson's eyes narrowed. "And dear, isn't it, I don't know, a tad off-putting that your teacher is an undead maniac? May I emphasize again, _undead_? Eva, is it not clear as day?"

Eva could only stare helplessly at Mrs. Erikson and her eyes of distress. When she first agreed to work with Yoongi, she had been so blinded by excitement for improvement that she had overlooked the very obvious detail that he was, very much, not alive.

She was okay with it, too. Even when he had gotten increasingly aggressive after their first few lessons, his kind and gentle demeanor he had first shown her shed away, she had once again ignored his insanity. She had ignored it for the sake of her career as a violinist. She had little money to offer for a master's degree or even just to pay for extra lessons. An impossible problem was fixed with an impossible person. It was corruption disguised as an answer from an angel.

Eva thought back to the horrible times where Yoongi had yelled at her in a manner so hostile that she feared her eyes were going to spill tears and never cease. She thought of the time where her lunch had literally exploded all over the practice room floor as a result of Yoongi's anger, his inner inferno. She thought of the many times she had laid in bed, paralyzed with the thought of practicing and the backlash that she would receive from Yoongi if she did not do it up to standard.

But she also thought of the look on Mr. Emory's face when he told her she was going to be a guest soloist for the London Symphony Orchestra and the feeling of exuberance that had trailed behind her for the rest of the day. She thought of her parents, carrying pride in their eyes that only parents could carry when she played her violin for them during Thanksgiving. She thought of the recording she had done only weeks before, and the decent-sized check that had come from it.

Everything she, and any musician, could have ever wanted from her career was thanks to Yoongi. And though the bad parts of Yoongi had brought her down to the lowest of lows, the good parts trapezed and glided through the sky, flying closer and closer to eternal success and admiration as a successful musician. And that was no easy path. Yoongi's shortcomings, Eva decided, was a way of testing her resilience. If she couldn't clear the bars Yoongi had so graciously set out for her to go over, there was no point in trying to become a virtuoso in a world that did not give recognition to artists.

"Yoongi has done more good to my career as a musician than anything else," she said defiantly, earning a look of shock from Mrs. Erikson. "He may despise you, but that's only because he sees you as a reason for his death. Yoongi would never betray me or my feelings because he knows I'm integral to his success, just as he is to mine."

Eva stood up abruptly, dug around in her purse for her wallet, and slapped a crumpled twenty-dollar bill onto the table. "For my part of lunch. Thank you for having me, Mrs. Erikson. It was a delight to talk to such a seasoned musician. But I must go now. Your concern is appreciated, but unwarranted. Have a nice time in Alexandria while you're still here."

And with that, Eva fled the table, ignoring the stares of shocked people as she stormed by. She didn't dare look back to see Mrs. Erikson, she was too afraid of her expression.

Rage was a powerful emotion. It showed physically on Eva's face, and it tagged along behind her as she raged through the streets of Alexandria.

But so was ignorance. And though less noticeable, it crawled through her system like a poison breaking down the tiny molecules that held the very foundation of life, making it far more dangerous, and infinitely more alarming, than rage could ever be.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

 **BEING THE GHOST** of the Jessop Center meant that Yoongi knew infinitely more about the structural design, hidden rooms, and overall idiosyncrasies of the place he had dwelled in for the past 40 years. He knew what parts of the floor squeaked and what places had the most dust (an abandoned kitchen cupboard that not even firemen could break open).

He knew the names of all the important workers that sang and danced and orchestrated technicalities all around the center, and at what times groups met up, all the time. He liked to think of himself as a caretaker or curator, though caretakers and curators weren't normally dead and transparent. As much as he sometimes despised being bound to the place of his death and wished to go outside the center, being the longest consecutive resident of the Jessop Center had its perks.

For one, when Yoongi wasn't sawing at his violin, he had free and unlimited access to all concerts that happened at the center, and there were many. He preferred symphonic orchestra concerts (Eva was in those) and musicals (Phantom Of the Opera was his favorite, he related to Erik), but he enjoyed watching old men play banjos for a small crowd of people or little children twirl around the stage just the same.

It was one of the few joys of the center, and he had exhausted all other options that could create any fun. Messing around with the plumbing became mundane when he realized the plumbers were getting smarter and actually able to fix the mayhem he created, and stealing candy from concession stands felt like an insult to his memory, and it left him bitter trying to remember what candy tasted like.

So instead, he focused his time on his craft. He focused on biding his time for revenge, waiting for something exciting to happen. He focused on watching dress rehearsals and practices.

This night, perched on a stage light in the far back that covered the stage with illumination, he watched a man dance around on a stage, his legs extending and landing exactly where they needed to go, his blonde hair bouncing gracefully with him. Backup dancers followed, equally succinct. Yoongi knew this man too well. He was Jimin Park, one of the people that Eva hung around with too much. He was the picture on Eva's phone when she unlocked it. She was the man she gushed about to her friend Meg, Yoongi hearing all of it when she thought he wasn't listening.

He supposed a better word for him was a lover. Yoongi could never place the feeling he felt when he watched Jimin do anything. It wasn't jealousy, hate, or even love for Eva because Yoongi never felt that way towards her, but something intrinsic to his system that made him want to hurdle himself into Jimin and cause massive amounts of pain to him. Yoongi couldn't help but feel that Jimin was a distraction for Eva, a person that would block her from practicing what he wanted her to practice and doing what he wanted her to do.

But despite his feelings, Jimin was beautiful to watch. He was fascinated at how his body moved the same way a child would be with Yoongi's fingers on his violin. They were both art forms but centered at different points of the body.

Jimin stopped dancing, breathing heavily and taking a deep gulp of water from a bottle near him. Nighttime had fallen, and it was unusual for Jimin to be at the center this late at night - Yoongi knew that best. He felt suspicious as Jimin mumbled something to the backup dancers, throwing his arms to the side in defeat and rubbing his face miserably. He wondered what Jimin could possibly be doing or planning. He floated closer, eager to hear what he was saying, but he only caught the last bit of his sentence.

"It's too complicated," Jimin sighed. "I have a different plan in mind, one that's more special for both of us. A plan that has fewer variables involved. But thank you for coming and helping." He grinned sheepishly at his fellow dancers, who nodded and began to pack up. Jimin trudged over to his own bag and began to throw in his belongings. Yoongi thought he saw a pom pom somewhere in there.

Yoongi followed Jimin all the way to the main lobby, pausing at the grand chandelier that hung in the middle to sit atop its arms. He watched through the window as Jimin headed outside, a place where Yoongi could never venture in this state, and hopped into a blue car. He drove away, and Yoongi slithered back into the catacombs of the Jessop Center.

At points, he wished he had his life back. Now that Jimin was gone and there was nothing else to take Yoongi's attention, he threw himself through a wall and drifted through six or seven practice rooms (his record was ten). He hardly remembered what a car felt like, or how air moved inside his lungs when he took a breath. He floated down to the ground and willed himself not to sink through the floor. His entire ghostly body was inside the practice room except for his foot, which sat comfortably in the wall of the room. Being a ghost meant that opportunities for a normal existence passed both by and literally straight through him. Sometimes, more often recently, he wished to have a true form, able to eat and sleep and live. Longing ached in his chest at nights, and violin seemed to be the only cure.

But when Yoongi felt like this, he would casually remind himself that not everyone had a chance at being a ghost, not everyone had a chance at having a half-fleshed life after death. The first year as a ghost, Yoongi feared for himself. He worried he would suddenly disappear into oblivion after God had caught the mistake of forgetting his soul, sending him to burn in an eternal hell to finish the progression of death. But being in the center since 1987, Yoongi had long since learned that he was never going to leave, spiritually or physically. Being trapped in the Jessop Center had ebbed emotions, and he cared less of whatever celestial being was up in the sky watching him put on a show. Solitude and silence had made him realize there was purpose inside of him.

There was a reason he was given this chance. It was to further propel himself into fame, to fulfill his ambition even as an undead being. It was also to avenge whoever, and Yoongi still didn't know who, had pushed him off of that stage years ago. This was an intermission before true glory, true power, and fame. That feeling, that want, created a ferocious flame inside him, keeping him going and burning any lingering negative feelings away. He knew success came to those who had the greatest patience and stamina.

He just had to bide his time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello readers! I hope this long af chapter will make up for what I'm about to say - regular updates won't happen anymore. Chapter 15 may be updated on Wednesday like normal but I'm just not sure. My reasoning is that I just started college and I'm a lot more busy than I was before school. Also, these chapter publishings have been so regular because they're pre-written. As of right now, I am writing chapter 17. Chapters 15 and 16 are still in editing phases and thus aren't ready for publishing. Thank you for understanding. I'l try my best to continue publishing chapters, no matter how slow it will be. As always, comments and kudos are so appreciated (seriously, they MAKE MY DAY). Thank you for making it this far. I hope I can update soon.


	15. allegro

_four years ago_

**THE POPCORN MACHINE** rattled in distaste, telling the world around it that it shouldn't have to work this hard. The employee standing next to it couldn't agree more. Wednesday nights at the arcade were never busy, allowing avid gamers to enjoy silence as they strengthened their decapitation skills in their favorite games. However, this night deviated from the norm horribly.

Packs of people flooded into the arcade, each group more lively than the last. This was the Jessop Center Employee Party, an annual party the center held to show appreciation for everyone who worked there. It was an event the arcade employees dreaded and the Jessop Center employees looked forward to for months. Besides being a large group of people, performers were known for being particularly rambunctious. Some experienced arcade employees blocked off the date to avoid the hassle they'd bring.

As one employee who'd forgotten what day it was begrudgingly pulled himself to the counter, he wondered what travasties he'd committed in a past life to bring him such misfortune

Eva wondered what glorious deeds she had done in her past life to have such an exciting night ahead of her. When she had heard there was a party at an arcade for employees, she jumped at the chance to go and enjoy a fun night with friends from the orchestra.

When she walked inside, blazing lights from the number of video games surrounding the room obscured her vision while the buttery smell of popcorn delighted her nose. Eva turned to Meg, who looked like she was about to ascend into hyperactive madness.

"Let's go!" Meg hollered, making a beeline for a motorcycle game, then nearly tripping over her own feet. In the corner of her eye, Eva saw a worker sigh miserably. "C'mon, Eva!" Meg shouted, clambering onto the cycle with chaos in her eyes.

Eva began to walk over, but not before an actor she vaguely recognized snagged the cycle next to Meg. Meg's face fell for a moment, then was reignited with competition when she realized she could trash talk her new opponent.

"Hey, are you ready to get obliterated?" Meg cried at her competitor, and Eva decided to find something else to do. She could meet up with Meg after she had some of her energy expunged, as if Meg's energy could ever run low.

Eva wandered around the arcade, debating on what to do now that she was alone. Gooey, delicious-looking cheese fries lured her to the food court, but she decided quickly against them when her attention was diverted by a group of dancers huddled around a game.

Curiosity took her over, and she found herself peering behind heads to get a glimpse of what was so captivating.

A dancer with dark hair moved with impeccable speed across the dance floor, shrieking with laughter as he tried to follow the directions on the screen in front of him. Even if the screen wasn't flashing "perfect!" at almost every step, Eva would've still seen that he was doing exceptionally well. Although his dance moves were captivating, Eva admired his jovial heart-shaped smile most of all in the neon-tinted darkness.

Eva watched the dancer for a few more minutes, then slowly backed out of the crowd to find something else to do.

"Wait!"

Eva looked up in surprise to find a blonde boy she recognized from around The Jessop Center coming towards her. When she made eye contact with him, he rubbed his neck and grinned sheepishly, his eyes crinkling as he did so. "Hey, Eva?" The boy asked. "The violinist?"

"Yes?" Eva replied, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion. "Do I know you?"

The boy laughed nervously, rubbing his arm and looking down at the floor. "We met at the Christmas party?" When Eva did not reply, the boy's lips trembled. "I'm Jimin."

Eva's eyebrows shot up. "Oh!" She gasped, putting a hand over her mouth. "You look different now. It's... your hair?" Her eyes traveled over to his golden locks, and many gears in her mind clicked into place. "You had black hair before," she stated, unaware of how her eyes naturally gravitated over Jimin's lean figure.

"Yes," Jimin laughed, giving his bleached hair a small tousle. "Sorry about that. I shouldn't have put so much belief into thinking you'd recognize me right away." He gave a wide smile, and Eva realized she not only recognized him, but she remembered him as well.

He was all Meg could talk about for a week after the Christmas party - texting Eva his Instagram at midnight, or casually bringing him up in conversation to stir her up.

"He's _cute,"_ Meg had whined to Eva after one of their rehearsals in an awful attempt to play matchmaker. "You should have seen the way he admired you from afar. You'd think he was looking at a beautiful piece of art or a patch of lovely sunflowers."

She was glad the darkness of the arcade cast shadows over her face to hide her blush, and she wondered if Jimin was grateful for it too. "No, it's fine," she said, giving him a reassuring look. Eva gazed over to the motorcycle game that Meg was on, and saw that she was no longer there.

"Hey, Jimin, do you wanna play games with me?"

Even in the dimness, Eva saw Jimin's eyes widen and shimmer. "Yeah, alright!" He nodded, then gave a small smile. "Uh, which do you want to do first?"

"We might as well do the motorcycle game," Eva said, pointing to the unoccupied seats. "It's popular and we may not get to do it later if we wait."

"Fair enough," Jimin laughed, then motioned for Eva to go to the game. At the same time, Eva motioned for Jimin to go.

"You go," Eva said at the same time as Jimin said "after you," and they both looked at each other, puzzled.

Eva broke their jinx by running over and hopping onto a motorcycle. "Come on!" She called, motioning over. "Before we tire ourselves out with politeness and someone steals the motorcycles."

"Oh, of course," Jimin said good-naturedly, his blonde hair bouncing on his head as he mounted his cycle. "Wait a minute," He said slowly as he selected his character and bike, "So if politeness tires us out, does that mean rudeness and trash-talking fuel us?"

"Depends on if you want to win," Eva grinned, selecting a particularly acrobatic racer. "I'm really good at this game. There is a low chance you'll beat me."

Jimin's eyes glistened as the screen in front of him turned bright white - the race was snow-themed. "Go ahead and tell yourself that," he said, not unkindly, before facing his own screen.

A countdown began, and soon enough Eva and Jimin were flying through a snow-covered track in the comfort of the arcade. Eva stayed glued to her screen, not wanting Jimin to know how afraid she was of him beating her. _I have to make myself look good in front of him,_ her mind whirled before she could really comprehend it. _Slow down_ , she thought as she sped up in the game and blazed by Jimin's character, _you only just met him._

After many twists, turns, and cries, it was down to the last stretch of the track. Eva's fingers were wrapped so tightly around the handlebars that she believed she'd snap them off if she gripped them any harder. She glanced over to Jimin and saw that he was looking at her with a glint of mischief. Panicked, Eva focused back to her screen to find Jimin's character edging forward. "No!" Eva shrieked. Her right hand left the handlebar and slammed down onto a button on her bike.

Purple sparks ignited out of the bike's animated exhaust and Eva flew by Jimin, just barely crossing the finish line before him. A golden and shimmery '1st place!' flashed on her screen, and Eva had to suppress the urge to shout with joy.

"Wow!" Jimin gaped, alternating between looking at his screen flashing '2nd place!' and Eva. "That was really good. _You_ were really good. And that was so much fun!"

"That was the most intense race I've ever done," Eva had to admit. She rocked left and right on her bike before dismounting. "Let's find something else I can beat you at!" She laughed.

"Confident now?" Jimin murmured, getting off of his bike while a hoard of kids clambered onto the bikes they had just vacated. "You didn't win by _too_ much," he said, giving a smile in the dark light of the arcade. It was there Eva first noticed his slightly crooked - and extremely endearing - front tooth. With no delay, Eva's stomach melted in fondness. Noticing she was staring a bit too long at Jimin's mouth, she turned her attention to the present moment.

"I'll win more if we keep playing together," Eva said casually, but in saying so she caused Jimin's eyebrows to shoot up, like he was surprised that she wanted to keep him around.

"Alright," Jimin said slowly, a smile tingling on the corner of his lips. "But I get to pick the game."

As Jimin took Eva around the arcade, time struggled to keep up with them. Soon, she lost track of the games they had played, and her cheeks hurt from smiling so much. Her competitiveness warped and bent into joy, and suddenly she didn't care as much if she lost to Jimin, so long as she saw his face explode with happiness when he beat her. Eva swore she saw Meg at some point as she blurred through the arcade with Jimin, but nothing was for certain. Besides, she was more than content hanging out with Jimin.

After endless games, two greasy pieces of pizza, and a near-catastrophic accident with a worker and a mop, Eva and Jimin had meandered over to an air hockey table. Jimin sauntered over to one side, cocking his head at Eva as she situated herself onto the other side.

"A real classic," Jimin quipped as he grabbed and tossed a hidden red puck onto the hockey table. "In fact, I absolutely love air hockey. I play it all the time with my family when we go to the arcade."

"Ooh, so you're probably pretty good," Eva laughed.

"I'd like to think I am," Jimin said smoothly, his fingers drumming on his beaten-up blue hockey paddle. He stared at his fingers for a moment, then looked up at Eva with high regard. Something in his eyes, his warm brown eyes, catalyzed something in Eva, and she couldn't help but stare back, frozen.

"You know, Eva," Jimin said slowly, pursing his lips, "I've had so much fun with you tonight. Everything's been amazing. Do you agree?"

"Oh, absolutely!" Eva said softly, and Jimin smiled.

"That's good. I'm glad," he said, rocking back and forth on his legs. A glimmer of light struck his eyes. "Because I'd love to see you again. Tonight has been so enjoyable and I don't want it to end. So I propose that if I win this game of air hockey that we are about to play, I can take you on a date."

Eva froze, staring at Jimin with awe and wonder.

"And if I lose," Jimin said quickly, "you don't have to go on the date. Which I think is fair - you've proven yourself to be capable of arcade games, so it's not an unfair match." A small smile danced on the tips of his lips. "But I certainly hope you'd want to lose to me just this once."

A beam of soft yellow light struck Jimin from a nearby game, bathing him in gold. The tingle of a smile had blossomed completely on him, and his eyes gave the look that this wasn't something Jimin had come up with on a limb.

Eva fixed her stance and gripped onto her blue paddle. The prospect of a date with Jimin had startled her, but she couldn't help but think it would be very enjoyable. She smiled at his smile and nodded her head. "Okay, Jimin. I won't be opposed to that. In fact, I'm quite excited."

"Great!" Jimin cried, then ran over to the hockey table's side and inserted a few coins. While the game shuddered to life, Eva took note that the number needed to win was six.

 _Six,_ she said to herself. _He needs to score six times to be able to take you on a date._ For whatever reason, losing didn't seem like the worst fate.

Jimin returned to his side of the hockey table, his hair and eyes ablaze with fiery excitement. "Go ahead," he gestured, pointing to the hockey puck that was slowly making its way towards Eva. She grasped it, the puck making her aware that her palms were sweaty. She brushed her thumb over the chips and dents on the puck, then plopped it down and promptly catapulted the puck to Jimin's side of the table.

Jimin was almost taken off guard - almost - but he managed to deflect the serve and send the puck flying back her way. He had begun to smile a great big contagious smile, and she couldn't help but catch it as well. Eva threw the puck back at Jimin. It ricocheted off of the sides multiple times before Jimin was able to hit it - and to her surprise, he sent the puck home to Eva's goal.

Jimin's eyes reflected the electronic '1' that flashed on the scoreboard. "You got lucky," she said with a hint of teasing in her voice, but Jimin only grinned at her. It wasn't a malicious or boastful grin, but one that said he was happy to be here. It was like he could see right through her competitive façade.

Eva served again, hoping to make the score even within the next few seconds. They went back and forth before Eva managed to squeeze the puck by Jimin and earn her first point. "Wow, nice!" He said politely and clapped his hands before retrieving the puck.

"With an attitude like that, I'll be sure to beat you," Eva snickered, but then almost missed Jimin's serve, which would have gotten him a free point.

"Sounds good to me," Jimin sang, his blonde hair flicking around his forehead as he smashed the puck back at Eva.

In less than five minutes, Jimin and Eva had each scored five points. Both were panting, and Jimin was starting to look a little nervous. Eva's heart ached for him, and for a moment, she debated on letting him take the last point.

"Down to the wire," Jimin murmured. He slid the puck out from the goal in front of him and tossed it on the table. They both watched it skid across the length, neither sure when it was okay to move. Tension wrapped around the game like a too-tight headband.

Eva didn't realize she was moving until she had sent the puck flying back to Jimin. She jolted her arm forward, and watched as the puck slid by Jimin's defense and fell neatly into his goal like it was meant to be there all along.

Jimin's mouth was open slightly. He watched the scoreboard flash '6' over and over, shocked by the turn of events.

"Looks like I won," Eva said, but not with nearly as much enthusiasm as she had with the previous games. She walked over to Jimin's side and gave him a smile. "That was a really good game though. I don't think I've ever been on my toes so much for an air hockey game."

Jimin's eyes glimmered at her. "Me neither," he said slowly, forcing a smile onto his lips. He set down his paddle and shoved his hands into his pockets. "No date, then. That's alright, I guess."

He turned away from her, and for a moment Eva thought he was hurt. But he turned back to her, a smile blinding her eyes. "But that doesn't mean we can't stop playing games together, does it?"

"Um," said Eva, shifting her weight between her legs.

"We can't even play games?" Jimin gasped.

Eva nearly choked. Her heart convulsed at the sight of Jimin, his eyes tilting downward in sadness and worry while his mouth formed a thin line. "No, no, that's not it all," she said, shaking her head.

Jimin took a step closer, tilting his head in curiosity.

"I... actually want to accept your date request anyway." Blood rose to her cheeks and she prayed Jimin hadn't noticed. "This is silly. I don't know why I didn't just let you win, but I felt that somehow I wouldn't be showing my true delight to going on a date with you if the condition for me to go was to lose a game. I'd love to hang out with you some more."

Jimin's eyes widened, and he had to stifle his smile. "Wait, really?"

"Yes, really," Eva laughed.

"You didn't just want to win because you'd bruise your ego?"

Eva felt his teasing run down her back. She felt she deserved it for her small ruse. "I think I'll keep my secrets."

The duo continued to play games well into the night, and Eva was saddened when the arcade announced they were closing in thirty minutes. While Jimin went to the bathroom, Eva stood by the exit, in deep thought with how the date with Jimin could turn out. They hadn't discussed date ideas, but during a round of ski ball, Jimin had politely asked for her number to contact her. It was a small and normal action, but it made Eva feel fuzzy in places she didn't know could be fuzzy.

Meg appeared in Eva's line of vision. She had almost forgotten she was at the arcade too. Meg looked like a tornado had blown through her and tangled her hair. Her face was red from excitement and running around from game to game, Eva presumed, and in her hands she gripped a wad of tickets. Though, her gleaming smile was enough to ignore everything else.

"Eva, you're not going to believe this!" She cried, waving her handful of tickets, which Eva realized was much more than she had originally thought. "I've won the jackpot!"

"Wow, nice!" Eva exclaimed. "Have you thought about what prize you'll get in exchange?"

Meg glanced over at the prize room, her lip curling upward in a devious way. Eva swore she saw the worker in the room pale. "I think I want one of those giant stuffed sloths," she said, pointing to the biggest and fluffiest animal that hung on the ceiling.

"Sounds good," Eva laughed. She jolted when she realized she had not told her about Jimin. "Hey, you won't believe this either."

Meg's eyebrows raised. Eva filled her in with everything that happened, from their meetup to the legendary air hockey game. By the time Eva was finished, Meg looked ready to explode.

"That's _so_ cute!" Meg cried, clapping her hands. "I'm so happy for you! Wow, I feel much better for deserting you this entire night."

"Miss Matchmaker, are you?" Eva laughed.

"Indeed," Meg said smugly.

From behind Meg's shoulder, Eva saw Jimin emerge from the bathroom. "Oh no, he's coming," Eva murmured. "Why don't you go and get your sloth before the arcade closes?" Wordlessly, Meg scuttled away, but not without giggling like she had heard the funniest joke in her life.

Eva watched him walk towards her. He smiled when he caught her eyes, and she was truly able to drink in all of his beauty at that moment. She wondered how life would be different with Jimin now in it, though she was certain it would make her life much happier.

 _You're not even dating yet,_ a sensible voice in Eva's mind reminded her.

 _No,_ Eva thought to herself as Jimin made a goofy face as he came closer to her, _but if that situation came, I surely wouldn't be opposed to saying yes._


	16. tutti

**EVA SPENT THE NEXT HOUR** sitting miserably in the Spoonfuls coffee shop. The Yoongi mural that had haunted her months prior was directly across from her, now complete. Eva held her mug of tea in her hands and had a staring contest with him, refusing to think about anything that had happened earlier in the day, but her mind kept drifting back to Mrs. Erikson.

She thought about how she stormed out of the restaurant, only feeling a little bit of guilt from it. She thought of how Mrs. Erikson's eyes bore into her as she announced she wanted to hear no more of Mrs. Erikson's stories. Eva believed she only felt bad about her actions because Mrs. Erikson had been kind. But Eva's anger, fear, and vulnerability trumped any feelings she had about Mrs. Erikson's sweetness. Yoongi was no longer her secret. She had to share her ghostly musical genius. She had to share her secret to success.

She stared down at her tea, watching as the residue shaped into something that resembled a bird. _What if Mrs. Erikson told someone about Yoongi?_ She thought uncomfortably. But logic quickly reminded her that no one would ever believe there was a ghost slinking around the Jessop Center. The thought comforted her slightly, but there was still a tight pit sitting in the center of her stomach.

Eva mulled over the words Mrs. Erikson had told her about Yoongi - how he would have ruined Mrs. Erikson's life with his ghostly powers had she not fled from the Jessop Center. She didn't want to admit it, but a small part of Eva wondered if he would do the same to her. If she was that co-dependent on him for her success, Eva would never be able to regain her footing if she left him. And that was more than Eva could bargain for.

The choice for leaving Mrs. Erikson, Eva decided, was for the best. But there was still interest and value from her words. Eva wouldn't have ever known any facts from Yoongi's childhood, and now she had an arsenal of nicknames and teasing points for riling him up. She was entertaining different names to call him when rationality spoke once again.

Eva couldn't simply just tell Yoongi of her encounter with Mrs. Erikson. That would put her too much in danger and resurface Yoongi's already negative feelings about his former teacher. She had to stay silent and keep the routine going - being his good student and playing as she should, never stepping out of line.

While her thoughts calmed down and her tea cooled off, Eva spent the better part of an hour scrolling through ghost lore websites on her phone. While many of the sites had the same popular information, many of the details they provided made more sense when Eva connected them with Yoongi.

_A ghost, the apparition of a dead person who did not pass into the spirit world, is tied to Earth through emotions, possessions, or living people. Sometimes, more than one of these elements may apply. Emotions that would prevent a soul from passing are usually anger, sadness, and regret, especially if unresolved. Ghosts that are tied through these emotions are often violent. A tangible possession, such as a favorite toy or precious item, literally ties a ghost down to the earthly world, only freeing them when the object is mauled or destroyed. Attachment from a person is not common, though cases have been reported._

_Most ghosts are harmless because of how they derive power, which is from their emotions. The stronger the emotions or ties a ghost has to the earthly world, the more likely they can disrupt and cause harm to living beings. Some ghosts never leave one area or may find themselves unable to leave an area at all, which can be attributed to their emotional ties to the place when they were alive. The place may also hold the site of their death (which is often traumatic), or an item they cherish, preventing them from leaving. The single most-effective way to rid a ghost of the earthly world is to destroy their ties. This could mean burning or breaking a prized item._

_Unfortunately, there is not much known on how to destroy an emotionally-tied ghost, as they are often stronger than their possession-tied counterpart, unless their grave was improperly buried, an event from their funeral caused a spiritual weakness, or an unexpected fray appeared on their tie to the earthly world. In the case of these ghosts, evacuation of the area may be needed until the ghost has resolved their past, which could take anywhere from months to centuries._

Eva thought carefully about Yoongi's life and death through what he told her. He had become vain and prideful as a result of his fame, then was scarred on the face and lost a few fingers as a result of a passionate hater. He then relearned how to play violin despite only having three fingers on his left hand, making him explode in popularity from the sheer talent it took to come back from something like that. Her fingers tapped a rhythm on the table. She had to give him credit - playing violin with three fingers was worlds harder than it looked, and Eva couldn't even imagine losing her own. For any string player, fingers were their keys to unlocking music. How Yoongi had managed to push past a setback of that caliber so quickly was beyond her. Had that happened to her, she would have been enraged and devastated. Though, she realized, Yoongi probably did feel that way. Their only difference was that he had hidden it inside himself so well. He had kept it bottled up for so long that he was now tethered to the earthly world because of it.

From there, she concluded that Yoongi had to be a ghost tied to the world by emotions. There also had been times during lessons, though not very often, where she could have sworn she had felt something tangible when he floated next to her when fixing a fingering or leaning close to see the music on the stand more clearly. Surely no weak ghost had enough internalized spiritual energy to become semi-corporeal, even by accident.

 _If Yoongi fulfilled his dream of seeking revenge, would he finally pass into the afterlife?_ Eva wondered suddenly. He likely would. There was another reason why Eva could not simply leave Yoongi. She couldn't desert him as Mrs. Erikson had to save herself, running the risk of tormenting someone else later on - she had to push on and allow him to use her for his own gain. _And I use him for_ my _own gain,_ Eva reminded herself. This was not a one-way street.

Eva spent a little while longer brooding in the coffee shop, flipping and turning through her thoughts. So when her phone rang suddenly, she was shocked back into the real world. Eva smiled when she saw the caller ID. "Hello," she crooned, picking up the phone. "What's up?"

"Have any plans tonight?" Jimin said cheerfully through the phone. He sounded like he had just dashed up a flight of stairs, his breath coming in at sharp rhythms.

"No, why?" Eva asked, cradling her phone between her shoulder and jaw while she stuffed her wallet into her pockets and disposed of her paper cup. "Also, did you just run a marathon?"

She could hear him smiling between his heavy breathing. "Oh, absolutely," he said. "You know I regularly go on runs. In actuality, a floormate asked that I watch over their pet hamster while they're away for a few days. I just got down to the lobby when I realized I forgot to feed it."

Eva would have just told him to use the elevator, but Jimin's apartment building was notorious for always having a broken elevator. If she ever wanted to visit him, she'd have to work for it to reach his apartment. "Well, you don't need to warm up for dance now."

"Sure," Jimin chuckled, and Eva wondered what that meant. She pressed him on what he was going to ask her.

"Oh, right," he laughed. "I was thinking we could hang out at the arcade tonight. I think too often about it, I love hanging out with you, and I love you. If you're free, of course. And if you say you have to practice," he added, his voice sinister, "I'll chuck that piece of wood out of your apartment."

"You wouldn't," Eva gasped.

"Do you want to test that?"

Eva pursed her lips. She knew Jimin wouldn't ever do that, but the thought of it was too uncomfortable to sit in her stomach as a joke. "Fine," she groaned, and was met with Jimin cheering on the other side of the line. "Ugh, I love you too. And you're right, we haven't hung out in a while. I guess I do want to see your stupid face."

"Having a stupid face has its perks," Jimin mused. As Eva stepped out of the shop and into brisk March air, Jimin asked, "but anyways, how is your day so far?"

The events in the restaurant with Mrs. Erikson were still fresh in Eva's mind, but it still was discomforting to remember them. "I actually had lunch with an admirer," Eva said, not completely lying. "She used to be the conductor of the symphony orchestra at the Jessop Center but she's retired now. She complimented me on my recording and had a few interesting thoughts and points."

"So you had a really good start of the day," Jimin concluded, and Eva's stomach tied into a hundred knots. He couldn't be any more wrong. "That must have been such a cool experience, and I bet she won't be the last. You're too talented to be overlooked now that you're out there."

Eva cooed a thanks, but Jimin's words stuck in her mind. How exactly _would_ she handle other musicians when they started to notice her? Yoongi had to stay a secret as steroids would be for an athlete. The comparison did not ease the anxiety that slowly was building. She distracted Jimin by asking about his day, and she walked to her apartment while he chirped about his morning class of kids. His voice helped to drown out Eva's uneasy and buzzing thoughts about her future as a musician, but she still had lumps of worry burrowing inside of her.

"What time should I be at the arcade?" Eva asked as she unlocked the door to the apartment. As usual, Adaline was absent and in class. "And should I wear anything in particular?"

"I was thinking five," Jimin said, and Eva glanced at the clock. She had a couple of hours to kill before she had to leave. "And wear what you want."

"Alright," Eva agreed. "Oh, this is exciting! I haven't been to the arcade in so long."

"Same here." By seeing the clock, Eva knew that Jimin had a class in a few minutes.

"Isn't this your rowdy class?" Eva realized, then smiled deviously. "Oh my God, isn't this is the one where they stole your water bottle and filled it with-"

"Yes!" Jimin groaned, silencing her before she could finish her sentence. "Truly, I love them all. But they're one of few classes where I could lie down and let them trample me and they'd enjoy that more than actually dancing."

"I think all kids would rather that," Eva laughed while Jimin protested that most students loved him and would never hurt him. Eva lounged on her apartment couch, eyes shut. She could imagine him on his line, walking to the Jessop Center, his face red from running, all while trying to convince his girlfriend that little kids had no malice in their hearts. It made the little love birds inside her sing.

"I think I'll let you go," Eva said, hearing a door close on Jimin's end. He must have arrived at the Center. "See you later, child doormat."

"See you later, violin addict," Jimin returned, but Eva could hear the smile behind his words. They hung up, and Eva was left with her thoughts. Yet, fuzzy and warm thoughts about the time she was to spend with Jimin accompanied her earlier anxious thoughts. They helped center her, and Eva was fondly reminded of how much she loved Jimin Park.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

 **THE ARCADE** where Jimin asked Eva out looked the same as it did years ago. The dark room helped offset the bright and flashing rainbow game lights, while the ever-present smell of greasy hot dogs and nachos was an assault on Eva's nose. The same wholly-uninterested workers sat behind the counter, dreaming of being anywhere but the arcade.

Screaming children ran past Eva's knees to reach the games they wanted to play. A few seconds later, she could swear she heard the sound of someone vomiting, and the distinct groan from what could only be a worker. The place crawled with so many germs that Eva was sure she could see them if she looked close enough on a counter. It was a charming, yet disgusting place to be. And Eva loved it.

Something about peeling back dirty and grimy layers of filth on an object to find something exciting hidden on the inside touched something inside Eva, and the arcade was the same. An arcade didn't discriminate based on age. An arcade was fun for everyone present, whether it was the children themselves murdering aliens on a screen or their parents watching them fondly do so on a bench.

An arcade brought good friends together and tested their relationships by pitting them against each other. People screamed and shouted, but it was out of glee. Children got sick with too much cotton candy, but their dazed expressions and dreamy smiles while they clutched their stomachs suggested that some pain is worth it. Adrenaline was a primal and universal human experience, which is perhaps what the arcade hoped to draw out of its visitors.

Jimin appeared next to Eva and handed her a swipe card that allowed them to play games. He ran a hand through his blond locks and grinned a devilish grin. "Let's have a challenge," he drawled. "The person that gets the most tickets by the end of the night gets to take the other's tickets and get a huge prize."

"I've always wanted to win a giant stuffed animal," Eva replied. Then, before Jimin could react, she took off into the sea of games.

Over the next two hours, the arcade was Jimin and Eva's life. Eva stayed consistently on a few games that yielded large amounts of tickets, while Jimin played shooting and, with little surprise, dancing games. Eva would be lying if she said she didn't stop and admire Jimin while he smoked Dance Dance Revolution. They ran into each other now and then and played neutral games that didn't spit out tickets. Eva was certain she had more tickets than Jimin, but the knowing smile he held on his face when he thought she wasn't looking suggested otherwise.

When both of them had their pockets full of tickets, Jimin suggested they play air hockey. The table was all too familiar with the same two blue paddles situated on either side of the table. Just seeing the table brought Eva back to the time when Jimin had first asked her out, and her heart grew warm.

"I've been waiting a few years for this," Jimin commented, drumming his fingers on the table while Eva bent down to find the puck.

"Me too. But just you wait," Eva laughed as she ducked her head under the table to look for the puck. "I'm going to destroy you just like I did last time." She discovered it hidden behind one of the table legs and grabbed it.

When she stood, she found Jimin kneeling on one knee, an open ring box cupped in his hands.

Eva's body froze while her mind processed what was happening. Her eyes roamed over Jimin's kneeling form, his stupid grin that only widened and turned into a laugh when they made eye contact, and finally, the small and gorgeous silver ring that was nestled in the center of the box.

"Eva Romanov," Jimin managed to get out between his smiles and giggles while Eva covered her face with her hands, "what are you doing? What are you doing for the rest of your life?"

"You did it at _our_ arcade," Eva whimpered. When she pulled her hands back, they were covered in tears. She couldn't stop smiling. "At _our_ air hockey table."

"Eva, will you marry me?" Jimin finished, and Eva burst into sobs. She felt warm arms wrap around her, and she hugged Jimin while nodding vigorously.

"Yes, yes, yes, I'll marry you!" She said between sobs, burying her face into his shoulder. Jimin gently pushed her away from his body so that he could see her face.

"Oh, love," Jimin crooned as he wiped away Eva's tears with his thumb. "Don't cry. I'm going to start crying too." Saying that just made her cry harder.

A small group of people had noticed what was going on and stood from a distance, crooning and taking photos. Between sobs, Jimin took Eva's left hand and slipped the precious ring onto her finger.

"I can't believe this," Eva moaned. She held her hand to stare at the ring then back at Jimin, who seemed to be glowing. "You're definitely gonna win our competition now!"

At that, Jimin snorted and threw her into a hug. He caressed her hair and began to lead her away from the air hockey table. "Let's sit you down and get you sorted out."

Jimin led Eva to the front of the arcade. Many older women were mysteriously there as well, and they whispered "congratulations!" and other encouraging words as they walked out of the arcade. Eva could barely process any of it. She couldn't believe she was thinking about arcade games only a few minutes ago. She couldn't believe she was going to marry Jimin. She'd thought of it and they'd joked about it many times, but seeing it come to life was more than Eva could handle.

Life seemed to be working itself out. She was getting married to the love of her life. She had a huge feature that would elevate her musical career. There didn't seem to be any glaring factors that would change any of that.

There was a small bench outside the arcade, and Jimin sat Eva down on it. He then curled up close to her and gave a dazzling smile. "So, my fiancée," Jimin began. Eva choked. Jimin couldn't finish his sentence because he, like her, realized the weight of the words. They descended into giggles, laughing and crying into each others' shoulders as they processed what they now were.

"Eva," Jimin finally said after they both had a hold on themselves again. His cheeks were tinted pink and his body still glowed with joy. "You know, I almost proposed at the Jessop Center. I had this huge plan where you'd walk in and I'd do this crazy dance before suddenly going to my knees and showing the ring. But, I thought this would be better." He laughed again, and Eva sensed he had let go of something he had been holding back.

"It's not elegant, but I thought that nostalgia would be more fitting," he finished.

"It was perfect," Eva said, still teary. "It doesn't matter that it was in an arcade. It was perfect. It was unique to us, which is what makes it so special."

After a few minutes, the two got up and reentered the arcade. All of the gamers that had seen the proposal happen were absorbed back into their games like nothing had happened. "I don't really want to play anymore," Eva said. "My adrenaline can't get any higher than this."

"In that case, let's win a prize," Jimin said, fishing tickets from his pockets. "You take mine. Seeing you happy like this makes me want to make you happier."

"Shut up," Eva groaned and nudged him. She still took his tickets, though. They walked up to the prize station, hand in hand. Across the wall, different toys and stuffed animals hung like piñatas. Eva focused on the stuffed animals. There were many to choose from: an enormously fluffy white alpaca with a kind face, a pink bunny with comically thick eyebrows, and even a cookie with a toothy grin and eyes that seemed to know all. But Eva was focused on the hooded yellow dog that had its tongue sticking out. She loved it immediately.

"That dog is so cute," Eva said, pointing it out to show Jimin. "How many tickets do we have?"

They spent a minute counting them out. "We barely have enough," Jimin grinned. "Go get your dog."

They walked back out, Eva carrying the enormous yellow dog that was half the height of her. "Adaline is going to hate this!" Eva said gleefully, skipping along the sidewalk to Jimin's car. They shoved it into the backseat.

"Adaline will have to live with it, won't she?" Jimin laughed.

The newly engaged couple drove off, the lights of the arcade flashing behind them like police sirens.


End file.
